


Your Wings

by Narlth



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, Dragon AU, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 04:55:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 29,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7877368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narlth/pseuds/Narlth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For centuries dragonlords have had the unique ability to also transform into dragons.</p><p>On what should have been a routine flight, Merlin is shot down, and left stranded in Camelot, where he must hide his true nature, whilst also dealing with his growing feelings for a king who would so easily order his death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A quick note to start with. This is still in the process of being beta'd so if you're deciding between things to read, maybe give this a couple more days. :)
> 
> Thank you to the After Camlann mods for running this fest once more, it's my favourite! <3
> 
> Massive, massive love to my artist [Karovie](http://karoviesart.tumblr.com/) who is the actual sweetest, and so talented. She perfectly managed to capture my vision for dragon!Merlin, and was just awesome to work with.  
> Go give her all the love. <3 <3
> 
> Thanks to my beta wwrackspurts. Your suggestions are so, so helpful.

For the past one hundred odd years the Dragonlords had lived in the same castle, high up in the hills of Conwy. It was the perfect place really, access limited because of the dense forests that crawled upwards towards the town, leaving only the sky or the ragged cliff face that dropped off into the narrow sea. 

The castle itself was not built at the highest peak, but rather one slightly lower, affording a certain degree of shelter, and allowing it to almost be hidden from those that would wish harm. The main citadel was made of a pale grey stone, green moss slowly inching it’s way upwards as time passed.

It was the perfect location for the kingdom of the dragonlords, with acres upon acres of space, for their dragon allies to happily live without encroaching on the townspeople. There was also enough room for those that had inherited dragonlord powers to test out their dragon forms in an environment that was at least marginally safe.

The true legacy of the dragonlord’s power, was not just in their ability to control dragons, but also in being able to transform into a dragon themselves. Of course as with every skill, it took a lot of practice before someone was able to make the transformation, let alone hold it for more than five minutes.

Once one did learn to hold their dragon form, however they must always be vigilant to not hold it longer than six hours, for if one did so, they risked not only magical exhaustion, which often lead to death, but also being consumed by their dragon instincts. 

After achieving mastery of holding their form, dragonlords were to join the young dragons that lived in the nearby valley to learn everything about what being a dragon entailed, from flight, to fire.

It was a part of a bond of trust grown between the two communities, if the trust was there then there was less chance of either party abusing their powers.

However the dragonlord population had began declining in recent years, in alignment with the growth of distrust for magic users throughout the lands. Even full blood dragonlord parents could no longer guarantee that any of their children would inherit the dragonlord gift, in some families 

For some of the ancient noble families of the kingdom, this was a major worry as they took great pride in having a pure heritage, composed of only those who held their own dragonlord powers. It was almost viewed as an insult if a member chose to marry outside of a magical lineage.

Balinor himself was of a noble family in the kingdom’s court, thus he had been under pressure to marry one of the daughters of the other dragonlord families. He had suffered his father and mother’s disapproval when he had began to show interest in common Hunith, who had not even a drop of magic in her.

Once his parents passed however, They had gone ahead and married without much more than a few whispered remarks. They moved into the rooms Balinor had inherited within the castle, and interest in their lives quickly disappeared. That was until Hunith gave birth.

There was something about their son. Wherever they went all eyes fell on Merlin, they never spoke, or approached, just watched him. It was unnerving to say the least, and within a month Balinor had reached his wits end and confronted them.

With a bit of persuasion, Balinor had quickly learnt that there was a prophecy about the one who would deliver magic from the darkness, a sorcerer more powerful than any that have ever or would ever live.

It was obvious really, when less than a month old, Merlin had used magic to attempt to float a drink over to his cradle. He had failed spectacularly of course, sending the cup crashing to the floor- but it was at that moment that Balinor realised there may actually be some truth to the accusations.

However he tried his best to keep Merlin away from anyone that insisted on going on about Merlin’s destiny, and how he would save them all. He wanted his son to be able to grow up as any other child within the kingdom, not one with heavy expectations piled on his shoulders. Balinor had seen first hand how such things could effectively cripple someone, the weight being just too much.

He succeeded for the most part, though he knew as Merlin grew older, he would be unable to continue protecting him. 

~

Balinor crossed the room, opening the door to he and his wife’s chambers, a small smile on his father as he spotted Hunith with their son, cradled close to her chest, while she read from a heavy looking book. 

“How is he?” He asked softly, not wanting to wake Merlin, as he knew how hard it could be to get babies to sleep at times. 

“He’s much better today, less fussing, more sleeping.” Hunith put her book aside as she answered him, lowering Merlin a little, so Balinor was able to get a good look at his peaceful face. 

“He’ll have thick hair, just like you.” Hunith added, referring to dark locks that already grown long enough to cover Merlin’s ears and stuck up in places from where he had been lain down. 

“Any magic incidents today?” Balinor asked, remembering the morning before when Merlin had - well - tried to float his blanket over. 

He hadn't succeeded of course, and instead the blanket had simply been pulled from it’s home in Merlin’s crib and dropped unceremoniously on the floor not two metres away. 

“Things will not be easy for him, but I will do all I came to ensure his childhood is kept as normal as possible.”

Hunith was silent for a moment, thoughtfully we his statement, before she nodded her solemn agreement.


	2. Chapter 2

The famous white turrets of Camelot stood bright in the mid morning sunlight, the sound of a horse racing into the courtyard filled the air, along with the high pitched giggle of a child.

A group of knights pulled their horses to a halt, hooves clattering loudly against the cobble stones. At the front sat the young Prince Arthur, his blond hair almost gold in the bright light of the sun. He dismounted with a leap, short red cloak billowing out behind him.

A servant hurried over to collect the Prince’s rein’s whilst the rest of the group dismounted, the slightly older, ginger haired knight approached the Arthur, offering him a smile and a nod before speaking.

“That was an enjoyable very ride, Sire. We should do it again.” Arthur nodded in agreement, his blue eyes cheerful, and demeanour relaxed.

“I don’t think father will let me have to time, he wants me to concentrate more on my lessons.” There was a slight heaviness in his words, though he tried to keep it out, aware that showing his emotions was something his father disapproved of.

It was times like this Arthur yearned to be a normal child, not the Prince, not someone with so many expectations piled on his shoulders.

Leon’s hand landing on his shoulder, startled him from his thoughts. Arthur shook his head once, clearing his mind, he couldn’t let himself get stuck in his thoughts he had too much left to do still today.

~

Returning to his chambers, Arthur, with the help of a servant stripped out of his armour, splashed some water on his face to clear away at least some of the grim of the day before he went to meet with his father in the throne room.

His shoes clicked as he walked through the castle, servants and other inhabitants of the kingdom, bowing or nodding to him in difference as he passed. He also most didn't noticed them as he went, having grown up with this for his whole life and it was only the sound of the throne room doors being pushed open that brought him back to reality.

Uther was stood on the far side of the room, his hands on his hips, eyebrows lowered in thought.

"Father?" Arthur asked, once the doors had shut behind him, "you wanted to see me."

"Ah, Arthur." Uther turned as if he hadn't heard arrive, and perhaps he hadn't, judging by the expression on his face.

"I have something important to discuss with you." He reached out, resting one hand on the back of his throne, "our scouts had informed me that the druids have began talking about the discovery of their so called saviour."

Arthur's lips parted, and his own brow furrowed. This was the first he had heard of some sort of magical 'saviour', how could people so evil even have a saviour? Surely the only thing they could merit was someone to put them down - free them from their own evil doings.

"Do we know where this, saviour is? Are we to ride out and capture them?" He rocked onto the balls of his feet, his fingers tapping against his leg.

"No, Arthur. Despite our spies discovering the existence of this so hailed saviour, they have been unable to determine their location." The king's underlying anger was clearly visible, though Arthur knew he was trying to hide it.

Arthur wondered why he was summoned here, if they were not to be pursuing this evil, he almost opened his mouth to ask, when Uther continued.

"Rather than wait for these people to gather their strength and organise an attack against us, we shall increase patrols and be extra vigilant against the source of magic infiltrating our kingdom.

"Yes, father." Arthur crossed his hands behind his back, nodding his assent.

"I also want you to start leading your patrols once a week, so you are ready for when you will be in charge of the Knights."

Arthur felt the metaphorical weight settle on his shoulders, joining those that already resided there. He steeled himself, refusing to let Uther's expectations drag him down.

"Of course, father." He paused in silence a moment longer, waiting to see whether Uther would add anything further, but when he was not forthcoming, Arthur gave a shallow bow, and turned on his heel before striding from the room.

An increase in patrols would mean Arthur was even busier, even less time to just be himself.

~

A discontent was brewing in the, kingdom, a tension every citizen was aware of to various degree, the persecution of those involved with magic had increased. It left a shadow that lingered in the back of people's minds, leaving them more subdued, weary. Topping all this off was of Merlin’s destiny, and the varying opinions on what it actually meant.

A growing number of those who put a lot of stake into the ancient prophecies, were growing tired of Balinor’s resistance to letting them train Merlin for his future role. To them Merlin was not a person, but rather a tool for to be used for their own aims, used and then thrown away later.

Currently Balinor was stood in his family's dinning chamber, his arms folded firmly over his chest, whilst opposite him Alvarr, the leader of one of the few Druid clans within the kingdom.

Normally this would have been a regular occurrence, as within the court Balinor was charged with maintaining relations between the different groups that lived in the kingdom, taking into account their different needs, and making sure everyone lived in harmony.

However Alvarr’s clan was considered the most radical, some past members having been involved in violent actions against other kingdoms, something that had served only to increase distrust between them.

Today however, the Druid was not there to talk about courtly duties, but there about Emrys.

“I don't care what you, or your so called prophecies say, you’re not taking my son away train as your weapon.” Balinor shook his head in disgust, turning away and heading to his window.

Outside the sky was grey, clouds rolling in, along with the the slowly growing darkness of the evening, in the distance a dragon was flying, silhouetted by the sun so Balinor could not see what colour it was.

“I think you misunderstand me,” Alvarr was suddenly besides him, voice smooth as he tried to lay on the charm. “With our guidance, Emrys can reach his full potential.”

That had Balinor pause before answering, true he did not like the other man's insistence at not addressing Merlin by his actual name, but it was true his son would probably benefit from special tuition with regards to his magic. Everyone even those with no magic of their own had noticed his son’s powers were different, he was about to reply when Alvarr continued.

“Better to teach him now, instead of letting his talents be wasted as they are currently.”

Now that was the wrong thing to say, Balinor span back around, eyes narrowed into a glare.

“Whatever my son, does or does not do with his life will never be a waste.” Alvarr took a step back at Balinor’s tone, the other man clearly realising that he had made a mistake.

“My apologies, I’ll leave you for now.” The Druid made a shallow bow, long hair briefly falling over his face, hiding a careful blank expression.

Alvarr had just left the room, when Merlin peaked his head inside, his black hair was ruffled sticking up in all directions, a large smile on his face which was tinged with the pink of exertion.

“Father!”

Balinor smiled, shaking off his foul mood now his son was here, the eight year old had been learning how to transform into a dragon, as far as he was currently aware no one from the current student group had succeeded so far, but perhaps that was why Merlin was here now.

“Father! Father, I did it!” Merlin ran into the as he declared his success, all but leaping at his father, who had to had to throw his arms out to catch him before he ended up hurting himself.

“What did you do?” Balinor knew perfectly well what it was Merlin was referring to but also understanding his childlike enthusiasm. Merlin wrapped his arms around his neck, dark hair tickling the side of Balinor’s neck as the boy squirmed.

“I got to be a dragon!”

“Did you now?” The softness in Balinor’s voice would have shocked anyone else, the Lord appearing stern and unforgiving to everyone else that knew him.

“Yes! And I came here because I wanted to show you and mummy.”

“Well, why don’t we go find Hunith, and you can show us out on the fields.”

~

About twenty minutes later saw the trio outside on the castle’s small back field, the grounds were almost deserted, most people having head in for dinner already, making it the perfect opportunity for Merlin to demonstrate his skill away from prying eyes.

Merlin was practically bouncing besides his parents, exercising some of the boundless energy young children always seemed to posses. He dragged them over to the set of benches, positioned perfectly for any observers.

Merlin then ran out into the field, his arms spread out like wings, he had been unable to keep the smile off of his day since he had finally mastered his dragon, form and now it was even wider at the prospect of showing his parents.

Deciding he had enough space, he halted, turned and waved at his parents, feeling happy when Hunith waved back.

“Ready!” Merlin shouted, before let his arms drop to his sides. He forced himself to relax his posture, allowing his eyes to slip shut, as he delved deep inside his mind, into that spot in his chest, not quite where his magic sat - warm and so very bright - but slightly deeper where it was cooler, where he felt connected to something much bigger than himself.

Pushing against that feeling he let it consume his whole being, from the very tips of his toes to the ends of his fingers.

The felt the moment the change happened, wings a sudden unfamiliar weight in his back, with his tail stretching out behind him.

As a dragon Merlin’s skin was a gorgeous dark shade of cerulean blue, almost the same bright colour as his eyes as a human, the leathery texture of it looking almost soft in the low light of the quickly approaching evening.

His wings blended out from the blue into a pitch black at the outer edge, and when he opened his eyes they were his ordinary blue, except filled with flecks of gold dancing in them, a manifestation of the magic in his veins.

His tail was long, the ridges on his back having ended long before the reached the tip. Strong back legs were tucked easily under him, claws were white, clean, and unmarked, just like his pointed teeth.

His gaze fell on his parents and he shift his weight, moving from being sat up on his hind legs, to having all four feet in the ground.

Pride fluttered in his chest, as he watched both Hunith and Balinor get to their feet, Hunith with a large smile, and Balinor with a proud content expression.

“Oh my boy, you’re gorgeous.” They were both closing the distance between them and him, Hunith reaching out to gently brush her hand against Merlin’s cheek. His skin was warm, with the inner fire that all dragons possessed, and slightly leathery under Hunith’s fingers.

He purred, leaning into the caress, eyelids drooping a little in contentment.

“Well done, son.”

Merlin smiled, his wings twitching behind him, inching to be used.

“Alright now, Merlin you had better change back.” Balinor said, twining his fingers with Hunith's as they took a step back.

Merlin’s form disappeared behind the blue glow of his magic, letting it fill him for just a few seconds before he was returned back to his usual child self.

Magic dispelling, Merlin found himself wavering on the spot, two transformations in one day leaving him drained. His vision flickered, and he felt himself unbalance only for strong arms to wrap themselves around his waist, supporting.

“I think you had better get an early night.” He turned towards his mother’s voice, blinking a few times to clear his sight, realising at the same time that it was his father’s arms that held him.

He expected to be rightened, set back on his feet, but in the next moment he was swept up into his father’s arms.

“Off to bed with you, my little dragon.”

Merlin wanted to protest being sent to bed early, but he was cut off by a yawn before he could get anything out, and had to reluctantly admit to himself that maybe a nap would be a good idea.

~

The sound of the warning bells as they startled him awake, was the first thing Arthur was aware of. He all but leapt from his bed, scrubbing a hand over his face and almost tripping as his sheets got tangled around his feet.

“Guards!”

Still half asleep he stumbled across his room, grabbing his sword from where it rested on top of his table. He was determined to protect his kingdom and it’s citizens.

A pair of guards burst into the room just as he had finished dragging on his boots.

“Who raised the alarm?” He demanded before the pair could even open their moms to ask what he wanted.

“Sire, the guards on the western wall spotted a dragon coming this way. They said it landed in the courtyard and transformed into a man.” The was a bad concealed note of panic in the guard's words, any other day and Arthur would have considered send him back for more training, but right now he did understood the sentiment, how was one expected to fight a man who could turn into a giant fire breathing beast?

Swallowing, Arthur tightened his hand around the hilt of his sword.

“Take me to my father.”

“At once.” Both of the guards straightened abruptly, turning on their heels and practically matching out of the room.

The corridors outside were empty, but Arthur could hear the sounds of many people charging up and down. The lead guard picked up one of the wall torches, waving it in front of him like it was a replacement for his sword.

It didn’t take them long to reach the King’s rooms, but Arthur’s heart leapt into his chest when he saw two more guard’s clearly dead on the floor outside of the open chamber door.

“Father!” The word flew from his lips the same moment he pushed his way passed his two escorting get guards, he needed to see his father, needed to know if he was all right.

Slipping on the smooth stones of the floor, Arthur crashed into the chamber door frame, he winced at the impact but refused to let it slow him down, but as he looked up time seemed to freeze.

His father was already on the ground, his head was turned away but somehow, something about the stillness just told him that he was too late.

He felt his knees go weak, he was sure he would have collapsed then and there had it not been for the bang to his left. Snapping his head round his eyes met with knotted brown hair, and empty brown eyes of the man who had killed his father.

Somehow Arthur found the strength to get his legs back under him, pulling his sword point up, ready to fight with everything he had.

He didn't have to, the man shot a cruel sneer at Arthur, the expression slicing right through him into his heart. Arthur tried to call out, to do something that would stop what happened next, but he was too slow.

The man wiped his hands in his coat before turning, and falling from the nearest window.

The guards were at the window before Arthur was able to process what had happened, one of them spoke confirming Arthur’s fears.

“He’s the dragon.”

“No… He’s- he’s a dragonlord.” Two faces turned to his as Arthur spoke, “ that’s what they do. Turn into dragons, that is.” He shook his head, finally falling to his knees with a thunk.

Relinquishing his grip on his sword he crawled, over to his father, like a child to his dad, not a twenty two year old, not like the prince - now king he was tried to be. He could feel his breath stuttering in his throat, tears pricking the corners of his eyes, like a clamp was slowly tightening around his heart, squeezing.

He reached out surprisingly steady hands to his father, rolling him carefully, his pulse raced in his ears as Uther’s face was revealed; already pale with the sheen of death, blue eyes glassy, staring off in some indeterminate direction, never to see again.

The felt the exact moment tears escaped his eyes, rolling down his face, hot trails that met under his chin, before dripping down to land on Uther’s cheek, where they pooled together in a hollow of sunken skin.

His fingers dug into Uther’s shoulders as he pulled his father’s body closer, the weight of it both comforting and agonising simultaneously.

Arthur had no concept of how much time had passed, when suddenly a hand landed on his shoulder.

He jerked, curling forward, wanting to protect his father even in death, but when nothing followed the pressure, he slowly unfurled, peaking out from the corner of eye.

Seeing that Gaius was the owner of the hand, he felt the tension in his body suddenly drain away. Gaius was one of the few people around whom, Arthur could actually be himself, someone who would understand his need to grieve.

The next thing he knew, Arthur felt arms encircling him, and ever so slowly prying him away from Uther’s body, loosening fingers from their hold, and moving arms so they were wrapped instead around the physician’s waist.

A firm hand held the back of his head, pressing Arthur’s face into a red robed shoulder. Arthur clenched his fingers over the rough fabric, needing something to ground him as a sob worked its way free of his chest, painful and raw against his throat.

“Let it out my, boy, that’s it.”

Gaius’s hand rubbing small circles on Arthur’s back, providing an anchor for his turbulent thoughts.

In the back of his mind Arthur knew he needed to pull himself together, his people would need him to be strong for them.


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur’s coronation happened only three days after his father’s murder. 

Everything seemed like a blur to Arthur, though he knew why things were being pushed through so quickly, but he lamented the time he would not have to grieve properly, but somewhere in his mind he did understand why it was that he could not be allowed the time to himself.

A kingdom can not hope to function without a ruler, without someone to guide and hold the people together in a united front.

He had managed to sneak away between meetings for a few hours, Leon covering knight training for him to allow him as much time as he could get in the days immediately following.

When he had finally gotten away from everything however, Arthur had found himself completely unsure what to do with himself, having lost his mother too young to remember anything, and having no close friends to now confined in, left the new king alone with his thoughts.

Arthur ended up alone, he in his hands, sat on his edge of his bed. Though a servant had been in to open the curtains earlier that day, but to Arthur the room felt dark and gloomy, almost oppressive, as if the very walls could feel his grief.

He had never been close to his father in a way other people were close to their own parents, but the sudden absence of such a prominent figure in his life left a gaping hole that Arthur had no idea how he could ever go about filling.

He shook his head, fingers tangling in his hair. His father had never been perfect, he was very aware of the many enemies Uther had gained over his reign that may now see his death as a perfect opportunity to strike in revenge, he didn’t have the opportunity to properly grief, his kingdom and his people needed him, and they would need him sooner rather than later.

~

Things in Camelot began to change under Arthur’s rule. Unlike his father Arthur did not believe in respect through fear, rather through kindness, tolerance and a mutual respect.

One of his first actions as the new king, was the acceptance of anyone regardless of their birth into the ranks of his knights.

Sir Lancelot was the first to pass the test, closely followed by Sir Elyan, Gwen’s brother, and so it set a new hope for the whole Kingdom, the possibility that if one worked hard enough, some day they stood a chance of being a knight of the most prestigious kingdom in the whole of Albion. 

With Elyan’s promotion, Gwen was automatically promoted also, gaining her the title of Lady, as well as an increased salary and a position within the guild of royal dressmakers, where she continued to enjoy the friendship of her former colleges as well as being permitted to do something she actually enjoyed, rather than manual servant work. 

Morgana had gained a new servant after Gwen’s promotion, a quiet girl called Sefa, she had also taken on the role of Camelot’s embassy travelling between kingdoms to secure and negotiate alliances on Arthur’s behalf.

Being away from Camelot was doing her the world of good. She had always been at odds with Uther, and now he was gone it was the perfect opportunity for her to get away from everything and to finally be herself without someone looking over her shoulder.

Morgana sent regular updates back to Arthur, updates that used during council, to revise some of Uther’s old laws.

One law of particular interest to the new king, was the one banning the use of magic on pain of death. Though it wasn’t a sorcerer that had killed his father, Arthur knew that a dragonlord’s power stemmed from magical origin, and therefore the law must be amended to pertain to the illegality of the use of dragonlord powers of any type, under penalty of death.

The new law was passed with no objection, and following quickly on the heels of its drafting, rumours of supposed dragonlord’s and their locations started to float around.

Arthur sent knights to investigate every rumour, and even though most of them turned up as false leads, he never hesitated to send a party out.

Then one day the patrol did stumble across a dragonlord.

He was an old man, hair fully grey, skin tan and worn from a life outdoors, he had long since turned his back on the ways of magic. At any other time, the knights would have left him be, he was causing no harm, and clearly had no intention of very using his powers ever again, but the local villagers were instant. 

They attributed all the ills they had suffered to him, having been distrustful when he had first arrived, but were now down right hostile with the king’s new law in place.

So it was that the knights found themselves arresting the old man, and taking him back to Camelot, his hands tied behind his back, whilst the villagers and former neighbours looked on with glares and the occasional jeir.

Arthur was shocked when his men arrived back, for once having discovered someone guilty at the end of their lead, before he laid eyes on the man he had felt a bubble of satisfaction that his people had successfully carried out his will, until he saw their prisoner. An old man.

A chill had passed through him as he met the man’s eyes, but the instant he looked away it slipped from his thoughts.

Arthur ordered the man be taken to the dungeons, under the changes he had to made to the laws, the man would be allowed a trial before final judgement would be passed. The trial would occur the following morning, councilman, to be the jury.

The final verdict, came as no surprise. It was common knowledge that Uther had been slain by a dragonlord, and in the absence of the assassin, they were more than happy to pass the blame to any and all dragonlords, including those that had put everything behind them.

Exiting the great hall alone, Arthur all but collapsed against the wall behind him. As much as he felt anger at the crime against his family, he just couldn't see the man that had captured as guilty. But regardless of how he felt, he could not overturn the law, especially a law he had put into place himself. No, the dragonlord had to die.

~

It was a tradition every fifthteen years that all those who were over the age of ten, and had learnt to use their dragon form, fly out to the west, together. It was a right of passage, a pilgrimage to the place where the first dragonlord was said to be created, by the mixing of dragon blood with their own human blood in a time of dire need. 

This journey was to be Merlin’s first time taking the trip, the nineteen year old having missed the previous one by a matter of months, even though some parties had tried to insist that rules meant nothing when it came to Emrys.

It had been another occasion where Balinor had had to intervene, whether he was Emrys or not, Merlin was still a child, and that he was only a few months shy of the minimum age. The whole debate had stirred bad feelings, even after the decision was finally settled. 

Now this time, with Merlin of age there was an air of anticipation within _certain_ groups. 

They were all to fly out together, as usual, following a preplanned route that should allow them to avoid as much notice as possible.

Every element had been perfected over the generations, as they had sought to prevent any ambush or casualties, and had been successful in doing just that. Perhaps too successful, as this time there was almost an air of complacency, as if it were a given that they would all pass unharmed and unnoticed. 

When the day arrived, there was a buzz of excitement over the kingdom, as those taking part prepared to leave, and those remaining readied to send them off.

There was chatter all around Merlin as he, and his father joined those that would be flying out. Butterflies filled his stomach, and found himself walking closer to his father than he would normally, using his reassuring presence as he tried to and quell his nerves.

People Merlin only vaguely recognised greeted his father and him also as they passed each other. Merlin could only bring himself to mutter half-hearted replies, that he doubted were even heard over all the noise.

Somewhere up ahead a voice was cleared, and all around people began to quiet, and finally fall silence as someone started speaking.

Their voice carried over the crowd, and Merlin stood up on his tip-toes trying to snatch a glance at who was speaking.

Only to fail miserably, almost ending up on on the floor as he stretched just too far, his father’s hand as it grabbed his upper arm the only thing that stopped him doing so. He ducked his head, eyes peaking to the left to see his father’s face, and the eye roll Balinor directed at him, while he felt his own cheeks heat in embarrassment.

Merlin managed to compose himself, just in time to hear the speaker finish.

“... May you fly safe.” 

Everyone moved at once, falling into their allotted places. Balinor gave Merlin’s shoulder a last squeeze of reassurance, before giving him a push towards the others of his age, some of the adults had already organised the everyone's positions for their migration, deciding as they were want, that they knew the best way to do this.

That meant of course that Merlin was grouped with his peers, who in turn were to be positioned at the back of the group.

 

Not quite at the very end though, no, Geoffrey was assigned to keep an eye on them, make sure they did neither got lost or faltered in their flight.

As if following some unspoken command, as one, the adults shifted. Humans replaced by dragons in almost all the colours of the rainbow.

Closing his eyes, Merlin let the familiar warmth fill his body, feeling for that moment when his body shifted. Straightening up and opening his eyes, Merlin looked to his father, seeking him out through the crowd of dragons, eventually finding Balinor’s forest green dragon form.  
Balinor didn't look his way, but Merlin drew strength from his presence anyway.

As Merlin’s group was the youngest, composed of those coming to the end of their childhood, they had been assigned an older dragonlord to supervise. 

Forethought was lacking however when Geoffrey was chosen to be that supervisor, the old man being more than a little absent minded.

It was because of this, that it was so easy for for Mordred, Valient and Nimueh to slowly force more and more distance between them, along with Merlin and the rest of the group.

From there it was then child's play to corner Merlin, and split themselves off from the main group with no one the wiser. 

They had had to essentially box Merlin in, in the sky cutting off his routes forwards, as well as upwards and downwards, each of the bullies greater sizes allowing them to do this without too much trouble.

Then a threatening blast of fire from Nimueh enough to warn Merlin against calling out to the rest of the group.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the group to disappear completely from their line of sight, leaving the four of them completely alone in the sky.

“So Ambrosius,” Nimueh sneered, white teeth in stark contrast to her red scales. “I guess this is your chance to show us all what the mighty Emrys is capable of.”

Merlin felt his stomach drop. When it became common knowledge within the kingdom, that Merlin was the foretold Emrys, those that had previously been his friends had turned in him, viewing him with what no small amount of disdain and jealousy. 

Now it seemed all the tension and resentment had built up to this.


	4. Chapter 4

None of them saw it coming, when really they should have, there was after all a very good reason why they had a re-planned flight route.

The first bolt, missed everyone, whipping between Merlin and the bullies with a whistle. The second and third however found their marks - one piercing a hole through Merlin’s left wing, whilst the other embeded in the same shoulder.

A key difference between a dragonlord dragon a true dragon, being that a dragon’s skin was protected by scales, almost impenetrable, where as a dragonlord’s was soft and leathery. Not as fragile as human skin, but just as susceptible to a sharp blade. 

Mordred, Valient and Nimueh turned of their tails, thinking only of saving their owns skins. The three let out their own roars of fear, though they were almost drowned under the sound of wings beating the sky. They spared not a thought or glance for Merlin, leaving him behind.

Merlin was rapidly losing height as he twisted in the air, his wings splayed out so much as they tried to catch some air, his joints protested at being pulled to their limit. He jerked sideways another bolt slam into him, this time his stomach.

Merlin was set into a spin, his injured wing was forced closed by the mounting air pressure, and not matter how hard Merlin tried he could not re-open it. Wind all but screamed in his ears as he plunged downwards, blackness licked at the edges of his vision, and before he knew it Merlin felt his body shrinking, wings retracting until he was not longer a dragon, but back to being a human.

As the ground rushed up to meet him, he had just enough forethought before he passed out to push his magic as hard as he could towards the ground in an effort to stop or at least slow his descent enough so he wouldn’t die on impact.

His magic flooded from his fingertips, the warm caress of it the last thing he was aware of before he gave in, and sank into oblivion.

~

Sir Lancelot has not been having the greatest of days. That morning he had awoken to find the window to his room cracked after some drunken lout had taken it upon themselves to throw a rock at it.

After discovering that, he had them managed to drop his breakfast whilst on his way back from the kitchen, and after having seen the chaos going on there, had thought better of risking the head cooks wrath, and had salvaged as much as possible, making do with that.

Because of the slight disaster with his breakfast, he had then ended up running late for his assigned patrol, so when he eventually made it to the courtyard, everyone else had already saddled, and mounted their horses.

He felt as embarrassment warmed his cheeks, offering a stiff nod to his fellow knights and hurried to ready himself.

The patrol encountered no trouble for the first two hours of their ride, and Lancelot was beginning to feel like his run of bad luck was over.

That was until Sir Roberts’ at the front of the group, called a halt. Lancelot mentally scolded himself for assuming that things would go smoothly from now on, if there was one thing he had learnt since coming to Camelot, it was that dull was never the word to describe it.

Steering his horse around the rest of the group, he trotted up to the front, intent on finding out what the problem was.

In his wildest dreams he never would have guessed what it was his eyes landed on, when he rode past Sir Roberts.

A man - or better yet - a boy, lying crumpled on his back, on the short grass. Two large pools of blood bloomed out, staining rich silky blue fabric, originating from bolts that stood sharply upright.

Lancelot had jumped off his horse in an instant, rather than allowing himself to freeze like his companions. He quickly closed the distance between himself and to boy, reaching out with a shaking hand. There was no way he was still alive, not having lost that much blood surely?

Eyes flicking up to a pale face Lancelot tried to determine if he was still breathing, but only found bloodless pink lips, and eyes closed under a wavy black fringe. He pressed his fingers to a pale neck, letting his own eyes drop closed in concentration as he felt for any sign of life.

At first there was nothing, then felt it - a slight flutter - blind and you’d miss it weak, but there all the same. His eyes shot open, and he called to the other knights.

“He’s still alive. Help me!”

The sounds of feet hitting the group as the rest of the group dismounted, and came to join him faded into the background of Lancelot’s awareness. He pressed one hand around the bolt in the boy’s shoulder, around which was the larger, trying to stem the still growing patch of blood, while with his other hand he fumbled with his shirt, finding the edge and tearing a strip free.

Another hand appeared him his line of vision, pressing around the shoulder wound.

It was then that he spotted the boy’s left hand, the wrist was clearly broken, bent back in as if it had been used to break a fall. 

“Should we remove the bolts?” Someone asked, snapping Lancelot’s attention back to the matter at hand.

Lancelot was about to shake his head in the negative, it was never advisable to remove the cause of an injury until they had the correct equipment to clean and bandage it, when he remembered how far from Camelot they were. There was no way they’d be able to carry him all the way back, and not end up causing more damage if they left the bolts in place.

“We’ll have to, we can’t risk moving him and leaving them in.”

There was a murmur of agreement, before more torn clothes were offered up as makeshift bandages.

“Thank you.”

Lancelot braced one hand on the boy’s slim shoulder, before curling his fingers around the shaft of the bolt, being as careful as possible to not move it too soon. Besides him Sir Owain knelt, hands full of bandages ready to cover the wound the moment the bolt was pulled free.

“Alright?” Lancelot asked, meeting Owain’s eyes. The other knight nodded his assent, and Lancelot continued.

“On my count then. Three. Two. One.”

In one move Lancelot pulled the bolt free, his left hand tightening where it rest on the boy’s shoulder to keep him from following the weapon.

The second the bolt pulled free, the boy jerked, his body trying to fold in on itself, and a pair of blue eyes flew open, they appeared to meet Lancelot’s for just a second before they dropped closed, and he fell limp once more.

Lancelot waited while the bandage was tightened and secured, before he moved, positioned himself so he could remove the second bolt. Pressing against the boy's stomach, Lancelot mentally winced at how tiny he felt under the loose clothes, how could someone so small survive wounds such as these.

He grit his teeth as he lined his grip up ready to pull. The second bolt was easy to free, the way slicked by copious amounts of blood.

Throwing the bolt aside, Lancelot pressed both of his hands against the wound, grimacing as blood leaked between his fingers, hot and bright. 

Wrapping the second wound securely wasn’t as easy as the first, but they managed it, finally securing the makeshift bandage tight enough to stop it blooming red.

Blinking slowly, Lancelot backed away, taking a moment to compose himself. He shook his head, he had more important things to focus on right now.

“We need to get him back to Camelot as soon as possible.” The rest of the knights nodded, heading back over to mount their horses, while Lancelot unfastened his cape, swinging it from his shoulders and laying it across the boy. 

Sliding one arm under shoulders, and the other under knee, Lancelot lifted him up, tucking him close to his body easily, despite long legs.

Getting back on his horse was a bit of a difficult, whilst still carrying his charge, and in the end he did have to hand him off to another knight for just a few moments, to allow him to settle properly in his seat. Before he was handed the boy back to position him on the front of the horse, dark hair tickling his cheek just slightly.

~

The journey back to Camelot had seemed to last for an age, Lancelot hyperaware the entire journey of the slowly deteriorating condition of the boy in front of him. His horse half-stumbled over a root, the jerk of movement eliciting a small groan from the unconscious passenger.  
In any other situation Lancelot would have felt bad about any pain caused, but in this case he was almost relieved as it was a definitive sign of life, that Lancelot had been surely missing, and as they finally broke free of the forest, Camelot coming into sight.

With the way now clear of obstacles, Lancelot was able to urge his horse into a faster canter, the smoother steps send them almost flying along, so before he knew it Lancelot was clattering into the castle courtyard, the crowd turning to stare as he went.

Luckily someone had the forethought to rush forwards and take the reins from Lancelot, so he was free to dismount without having to worry, though he was still slightly clumsy with his hands full, but once he was safely on the ground, he nodded to the man holding reins, and headed straight up the main stairs into the castle. 

Servants and nobles alike stared as Lancelot practically ran down the corridor’s, waving around people and obstacles alike until he finally reached his destination. 

Sparing only a quick glance at the slack face of his burden, Lancelot adjusted his hold, then kicked the physician’s door open. 

There was a cry of outrage that Lancelot vaguely recognised as belonging to Gaius, but as soon as the physician saw who it was and the bundle he carried, a mask of professionalism fell into place. 

"Lay him down, quickly!" Gaius commanded, moving across the other side of the room to fetch the needed supplies. 

Lancelot hurried inside, cradling Merlin close to his chest so as not to bump in on one of the many pieces of furniture in the room. The patient bed was already made up, so Lancelot laid Merlin gently down, supporting his head with only hand so it didn't bang down onto the mattress. Skin that had been unnaturally pale before was now whiter than the clean sheets, and Lancelot had a brief flash of fear that he hadn't survived the journey. 

Pressing the back of his hand against the boy's cheek, he felt the lingering warmth of life there, shifting his hand he felt the brush of gentle breath against his fingers, he felt a knot in his chest loosen. 

The next thing Lancelot knew he was being pushed out of the way by Gaius, as the physician set to work.


	5. Chapter 5

Gaius wasn't sure what he had expected when a knight from that morning's patrol has all but fallen into his chambers stuttering something about a strange boy, and bolts and blood. Then when Lancelot burst into the room a figure dressed in pale blue clothes, stained a browning red tucked tight to his chest. 

He'd gathered his equipment, making his way over to the bed, having to bury his worry under a professional mask the moment he played liked back the first makeshift bandage. 

"Has he awoken at all?" Gaius didn't look up as he asked, pulling back one of Merlin's eyelids. 

"He almost did when I removed the bolts, but he hasn't stored since then."

Gaius nodded, slicing through the bandage, he peered through the small holes in the shirt, assessing as much as he could before he used his knife to carefully cut away the fabric. 

The smell of blood filled the air as the pressure was relieved, ignoring the slight murmur behind him, Gaius pulled out his needle and thread, glad that the lad was deeply unconscious so he wouldn't feel him working.

Both wounds were small, only requiring a few stitches to keep them closed, only taking a moment for Gaius to do, before he set about cleaning away the rest of the blood.

Finally Gaius turned his attention to the broken wrist, picking it up with starry hands he rotated the joint back into the correct position, before slinging it in place with two thin sticks and some wide bandages. 

"Lancelot, could you go into my back room and grab a spare sleep shirt for me, these clothes are ruined." He held eye contact with the knight until he nodded, knowing that at times others needed exact instructions the keep them from panicking. 

With the knight no longer hanging over his shoulder Gaius was free to apply some honey to stave off infection, as well as finish cutting away the remains of the boy's clothes. 

He sliced neatly down the sleeves of both arms, and then the front so that it fell free, but as Gaius lifted his right shoulder, rolling him onto his back he spotted something that had him freeze. 

On both white shoulder blades there was a mark, nothing massively noticeable, if one didn't know what they were looking at then they would easily dismiss it as nothing. But to Gaius, with all his vast knowledge knew exactly what it was. 

Two upside down v's no bigger than the length of Gaius's thumb in a sort of grey colour, the sign of a dragonlord's power. 

Gaius's eyes flicked over to the back room as he heard Lancelot coming back, he would have to behave as if he hadn't found anything, if it got out that they had brought a dragonlord into the kingdom, much less the castle then this boy's life would be forfeit. 

He took the offered shirt from Lancelot, and with his help maneuvered long limbs into it, then finally Gaius tucked a blanket over him to keep him warm. 

Finished both men slumped into the nearest chairs, tension finally eased. 

"Will he recover?" Lancelot asked, unable to pull his eyes away. 

"In normal circumstances, I would find it unlikely, however given his ability to hang on the whole journey back to the castle as well as however long he was out there, I would say there's a strong possibility he will pull through."

"Then, I'm glad." Lancelot's reply was simple, before they lapsed into a comfortable silence. 

"You might as well head back to your chambers, he won't wake anytime soon, and you need to recover from your day."

"If you're sure, Gaius?" Lancelot stood, rolling his shoulders suddenly seemingly aware of his own aches and pains, "if you need anymore assistance at any point, please don't hesitate to ask me."

"Of course, thank you my boy." Gaius smiled, waiting until Lancelot had closed the door behind him before he dropped his head into his hands. 

A dragonlord in Camelot, and apparently one with some notable heritage, judging by the fine clothes. Hair as dark as that on his patient's had flashed through his mind, though the owner was older. 

Eyes falling on a young face Gaius swore to himself he would do everything he could to keep his charge safe until he could leave the kingdom.

~ 

Alone in the corridor outside of Gaius’s chamber Lancelot halts, his hands can still feel the boy’s body under them, and red still painted his fingers. He clenched his hands willing his mind to stop lingering.

It wasn't the first time he had, had to deal with death and injury. 

He needed to report to the king, tell him of the patrol findings, and explain their early return. His hand was mere centimetres from his face, ready to rub at his eyes when he aborted the gesture, wincing and deciding he need a trip to his chambers to wash and change before he went to see Arthur.

~

Not half an hour later, now clean and steadier feeling Lancelot stood before his King, hands clasped behind his back, throat slight dry from having unloaded his story, whilst Arthur himself sat, thoughtful expression on his face. 

“And you didn't find any identifying items in him?” Though to an outsider Arthur’s question might have appeared cool and uncaring, Lancelot knew it was really rather the opposite, Arthur was looking out for the safety of his kingdom’s citizens. 

“No, sire. In fact apart from the clothes he was wearing he had nothing else in his person.” Lancelot’s assumption was that he had been attacked and mugged by bandits. 

Arthur hummed, “make sure Gaius has all he needs to treat this boy, then get some rest yourself.”

“Of course, thank you, Arthur.” Lancelot nods, about to turn and leave when Arthur continues. 

“I will check in with Gaius in a little while, see how our guest is doing.” This final statement gave Lancelot a moment of pause. He knew Arthur often liked to personally take an interest in the welfare of everyone under his rule, but he rarely had the time to go making personal visits. 

“Yes, Sire.”

But it appeared the king had taken a specific interest and who was Lancelot to question him? So with an incline of his head, Lancelot took his leave.

~

Each breath practically wheezed from his lungs, though the sound was long lost under the screaming of air as it rushed past him. Mordred’s wings ached from the strain of flying so hard and so fast, just in front of him both Nimueh and Valient were also beginning to flag.

The moment the first bolt had flown between them all thoughts of their plan had disappeared from their minds, replaced only with the urge to get away.

Panting, Mordred found himself slowing down, body unable to continue with the pace he had started. He opened his mouth to call out to the others, not wanting to be left allow, but before he could even formulate a word, he spotted a something up ahead.

Surprised he blinked, focusing in on the dark blob as it slowly resolved itself into individual figures. With a started a realised that they had managed to catch back up to their flight party. He knew the exact moment Nimueh also realised this, as her wings suddenly fanned out, drastically slowing her forwards momentum, so she fell backwards past Mordred.

“Nimueh?” He called back, before she fell too far away to hear him. 

She didn’t respond, not verbally at least, instead aiming a very pointed look in his direction, he gulped as they made eye contact, before swinging back around.

The look had been clear enough without words, he was to let Nimeuh do the talking, and to keep his mouth shut.

~

It didn’t take them long to catch up once, they had seen the rest of their group. Their absence had eventually been noticed, probably when Geoffrey had turned to regale the group with one of his many tails, and as such they had slowed their pace considerably, though not stopped in case they were spotted, or in case the four of them somehow managed to get ahead.

“Mordred, Nimueh, Valient!” The cries of their names blurred into one mass of noise, and Mordred almost found himself flinching backwards as everyone crowded into close. He did flinch when someone finally asked.

“Where’s is Merlin?”

Luckily Nimeuh cut in straight away, her normally calm demeanor falling away to become more like that of a frightened child.

“It was horrible.” She practically whined, allowing herself to list a little to the right so she fell almost under the cover of someone else’s wing.

“Do you want to land?” Some interjected.

“Perhaps we best land, to discuss what happened.” There was a murmur of agreement, and Mordred knew he would have agreed, if he hadn’t have known otherwise, that was how convincing an actor Nimueh was.

The was a flurry of wing beat as everyone turned and made for the ground. It was the perfect opportunity for Mordred to extract himself from their attentions, landing at the back of the group so he could observe.

All eyes fell on Nimeuh and Valient, as she began to weave her tale.

“Merlin had started to fall behind the rest of the group, you know how tiny he is…” She trailed off, taking a deep hitching breath, something that appeared so at odds with her almost menacing dragon appearance.

“So we thought he had best hang back, make sure he was alright, you know?” Mordred struggled not to roll his eyes at that last comment, it could hardly be further from the truth.

Despit how blatant, Mordred thought the lie, it seemed that everyone had bought it without question.

“We were flying besides him, making sure he was alright, when suddenly this bolt appeared out of nowhere.” She suddenly became animated, wings twitching out behind her. Luckily the first one missed, but the second…” Her face fell, and everyone lent in closer.

“It hit him and he just fell.” Her eyes were suddenly shining.

Carefully Mordred shifted in place, searching out Balinor in the crowd, but the moment he did he wished he had not. The expression of grief, had his stomach twisting uncomfortably, and he had to look away.

“We wanted to go after him, but we were too scared and they kept shooting, whoever they were.”

Silence fell as everyone processed what they had heard, until a sudden cried rose up.

“Emrys cannot be dead!”

That seemed to be a trigger, as suddenly the whole clearing was full of voices, voices that were competing with each other, growing loud as they tried to be heard.

The clamour had just about reached a figurative roar when suddenly.

“Quiet!”

“Now is not the time to be speculating about E- Merlin’s fate. We have to prioritise keeping ourselves safe first, and that means we need to continue with our journey.” Though his guilt still ate away at him, Mordred couldn’t help but agree, they needed to keep going or they risked being discovered, especially after all the noise they had made.

There was collective grumbling from a few corners, but all in all it was agreed that continuing was in their best interests. Once they were safe, they would best be able to agree on a plan of action.

Nothing would be able to quell the whispers and speculation, but at least they would be safe to do so.

~

Arthur waited until the door has clicked shut before he moved, one hand finding it’s way to his chin as he became to pace slowly across the room.

He knew Lancelot had noticed his unusual interest, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind, there had just been something in the knight’s expression that had begged interest. And so he was intrigued, and anyway it wasn’t out of the ordinary of Arthur to be seen in Gaius’s chambers so he could easily play the visit off if anyone did grow curious.

Deciding it was perhaps best to wait just a moment more before heading over, Arthur turned to his desk, aiming a glare at the paperwork stacked tidily there. He let out a full body sigh, shoulders sagging and hands falling, before Arthur dropped into his chair.

On a normal day he disliked having to deal with paperwork, but today he wanted to tackle it even less. Unfortunately the rumours that had started back when Uther was still the king, of people’s sightings of groups of sorcerers had resurfaced less than a week past, and now Arthur was left to sift through reports from so called witnesses, and decide which sounded the most credible to investigate.

He knew it was not something he could put off much longer, the council knowing full well how many reports had been turned in, and would use any opportunity to try and assert their own will over him, if they thought they might be able to rally support.

Arthur rubbed at his eyes, if he had any other option, then he would not continue to pursue the dragons.

Afterall out of all the numerous reports, none of them made even the slightest mention of any those sorcerers harming or seeking to harm either people or property, and as long as that was the case Arthur saw no reason to go after them. Though he would never admit it even if pressed, Arthur had started to reevaluate his opinion on those that used magic, even before he had become king. 

In his experience, it was people’s intentions that really mattered, and Arthur wanted to try and avoid having to try people simply because of something they could do, or because of who their family was.

Whilst Arthur’s views on sorcerer’s had changed, when it came to dragonlords, he was of exactly the same mindset as Uther had been. That one of them had been the one to kill Uther had solidified that fact in his heart.


	6. Chapter 6

It was more than a day later that Merlin roused, the young dragonlord groaning and tossing his uninjured arm over his face, blocking the daytime sunlight that still managed to breach through his eyelids. 

His mind was fuzzy as he tried to recall what exactly had happened… He remembered he had fallen, but then nothing more. 

His whole body felt stiff, like he had been trampled by a horse, in was just then that he noticed the wrist against his cheek was not only covered with bandages, but he been completely immobilised, he was just peeling his eyes open to see why, when he heard hurried footsteps coming his way. 

The thought that he should move his arm back and continue to play unconscious flashed through his head, but even as it did he realised it was much too late for that. He did however decide he still did need to move his arm from over his face, so at least he would be able to see who it was he was dealing with. 

“How are you feeling?” A kindly voice spoke before he had had a chance move. 

Merlin felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle, but none the less, he went ahead and moved his arm down. 

The man he saw before him was not what he had been expecting. Old blue eyes, framed by long white hair, aimed an expression of genuine concern his way. 

Merlin’s throat clicked as he opened his mouth, tongue slipping out to moison cracked skin. 

“I- “ he as cut off as a cough burst free of his chest, dry and rough. 

“Let me get you some water.” The old man turned away, disappearing almost complete from Merlin’s line of sight, before he returned, cup in hand. 

Rather than just offering the drink to Merlin, the man lowered himself into the chair besides the bed which Merlin had failed to register up until now.

Merlin tried to sit up, knowing he’d inevitably spill water everywhere if he tried to drink from his current position. He succeeded only in making it a few inches up, before trembling muscles gave up, sending him flopping back with a small, embarrassed whimper. 

“Let me help you,” the old man reached out, waiting just a moment for Merlin to lift his shoulders, so he could put a hand behind them. 

With their combined effort Merlin was able to get mostly upright, though he was left practically panting from the exertion. 

The cup was then pressed to his lips, trickling just a small amount of cool water into his mouth. It felt like heaven at first, smoothing and chasing away the bitter taste of dust and too much sleep, but was stopped all too soon for Merlin’s liking. 

The man must have been able to read Merlin's thoughts in his face. 

“That’s enough for now. Wouldn't want to make you sick on top of everything else.” The cup was withdrawn, despite Merlin’s pout. 

“Don't make that face, now just tell me how you are feeling?”

Flattening his expression, took a moment to actually take stock of his body. 

He remembered the bolts that had hit him in the stomach and shoulder, each giving a painful twinge, as if he could possibly forget. What’s new is the wrist injury which he guess must have been a result of the fall, he had been told multiple times to never break his fall with his hands but he had never quite managed to break the habit, perhaps he would succeed after this.

He was also covered in bruises from this fall, some making their presence known as he shifted in the bed.

“I’ve been better?” Merlin offered, still a little wary, only to receive a raised eyebrow in response.

“I need you to be honest with me, my boy. It’s the only way I can help you.”

Merlin dropped his eyes, suddenly and inexplicitly feeling guilty.

“Where am I?” Merlin asked instead, focusing on his hands, that were messing with the edge of the blanket. He heard a quiet sigh from in front of him.

“I probably should have started with that shouldn’t I?” There was a pause, clearly he was after some sort of answer from Merlin, but Merlin refused to even look up.

“Right now, we’re in Camelot.” Merlin’s head jerked up, he hadn’t realised they had flown so close to Camelot. “My name is Gaius, I’m the court physician here, and this is the physician’s chambers, and you were brought here when a patrol found you unconscious out in the forest.”

Silence fell again, as Merlin tried to process what he had just learnt, and Gaius waited for some sort of response from Merlin.

“What is your name? Do you remember what happened to you?”

“Merlin. My name is Merlin. And I-” He bit his lip wondering what he could trust the man in front of him with, deciding in the next second to keep quiet for now. “I don’t remember what happened.” He forced himself to look Gaius directly in the eyes a he answered, hoping that would convince him that Merlin was being honest. 

There was a tiny shift in Gaius’s expression and for a second Merlin though he hadn’t been believed and more questions were about to follow, but instead Gaius remained silence, nodding in acceptance instead.

Gaius turned away for a moment, the tinkling of glass knocking against glass the only clue as to what he was doing. 

Merlin took the opportunity to take stock of himself. His whole body ached, muscles having grown stiff during his time unconscious, but the pain he expected to feel was dulled, muted under the effects of whatever medicine he had been given.

When the physician returned to Merlin’s bedside he had a small open bottle in his hand.

“This will help with any lingering pains.” 

Merlin squinted at the contents, not entirely trustful of the colour, but realising that Gaius was only trying to help, he downed the potion in one.

Scrunching up his face in disgust before handing the bottle back, Merlin allowed himself to flop back onto the mattress, the effort of sitting up to drink leaving him winded.

Silence fell between them, stretching as the medicine began to kick in and Merlin’s muscles let go of a tension he didn’t realise they had.

“Now.” Gaius finally broke the silence, “are you willing to tell me what happened?”

There was just something about Gaius that make Merlin want to spill everything that had happened to him, and he almost did, the words already formed in his mind before he realised that that was not a good idea.

“I can’t…I’m sorry.”

“Alright. But I need to know if there’s going to be anyone looking for you?” One of Gaius’s hands came to rest on Merlin’s knee, the weight conveying both reassurance and understanding.

Merlin’s mind flashed back to his father, assuming Nimueh would have used the attack as an excuse for his disappearance.

He wondered whether that meant everyone would now believe him dead… Killed in the attack. It was with a heavy mind that he answered Gaius, his eyes on his lap, and hands fisting in the sheets

“No.”

~

Gwen had heard of about Gaius’s newest patient from Lancelot, the knight having visited her chambers straight after he had cleaned himself up, but still fretting over the boy’s fate. Gwen had, had to usher him inside, and sit him down with a cup of wine before she had managed to get the full story from him, and now today she wanted to come and see not only for herself, but also so she could hopefully report back to Lancelot after he finished training with good news.

She heard nothing from inside the chambers as she knocked twice on the door, pushing it open a second later. The room was as it usually was, slightly dark, with only one window providing light. She didn’t see Gaius anywhere, but quickly spotted the boy Lancelot had referred too, laid out flat on his back on the patient's bed. It looked like he was still asleep, but as she walked closer he twitched and it was clear he was actually wake, and only pretending to sleep still.

Gwen bit at her lip, sitting almost silently in the chair left next to the bed, and just taking in his features, from the hair so dark it was almost black, to sharp, high cheekbones, and long slim fingers of a heavily bandaged wrist. She also noticed the slight shadows under closed eyes, and the pinking of cheeks that hinted at fever.

She frowned, when he continued to pretend he was asleep and and unaware of her presence, and coughed gently into her hand, hoping to get her intentions across, but he remained still.

“I know you’re awake.”

Still nothing. Casting her eyes up she spoke again, “I’m not here to hurt you, I just wanted to see how you were.”

When she looked back down, it was to see two tired blue eyes looking back. Gwen startled, an involuntary gasp falling from her lips. Taking a moment to recompose herself, a hand on her chest as her breathing returned to normal.

When she turned back to him it was to see a smile trying to pull at his lips.

“Oh, you think that’s funny do you?” She asked, working to suppress her own answering smile. It seemed to be the wrong thing to say however as his expression fell, all amusement practically bleeding from his features.

“I didn’t mean to worry you! I’m just used to teasing all the time…” She would have continued talking had he not spoken.

“It’s alright.” His words were quiet, but they did their job, and Gwen stopped her rambling. He shifted, trying to sit only to wince and flop back on to the bed.

“Let me help you.” Gwen reached out before he had to chance to object, putting one hand behind his neck, between his shoulder blades, and helping him sit up.

“Thank you.” He gave a tired huff, as he repositioned himself.

“That’s alright. I’m Gwen, what’s your name?”

He stared at her for a long time, analysing, seemingly seeing inside her soul, until he finally did answer.

“It’s Merlin.” Gwen smiled at him, still working to put him at ease.

“That’s a nice name.”

He offers a small smile back, and she can see the moment when some of the tension leaves him.

It was that moment when Gaius entered, his medicine bag clutched under his arm.

“Gwen! Merlin!” He exclaimed when he spotted the pair. “I wasn’t expecting to see you, my lady.”

At the sound of her title, Gwen felt Merlin tense again. She was sure if he was able he would have also moved away from her, something that made her heart fall.

“And Merlin you shouldn’t be up yet, you’ll pull your stitches if you’re not careful then where will you be?” Gwen felt a trickle of guilt, at his last words, and watched with a concerned expression as the physician shook his head, putting his bag down and going to his shelves. 

Shuffling of the sheets had Gwen turning back to Merlin, seeing him bow his head, eyes on the ground. She couldn’t help but notice how exhausted he suddenly looked, and she remember that he had been brought in only a short while ago, he had barely begun healing.

“Drink this, Merlin. It will help with the pain.” Gaius was suddenly besides them, hand outstretched, vial between his fingers.

Merlin looked back up, accepting the tincture with a nod then downing the thing in one gulp. He tried to hide his distaste by turning his head away from them, managing only to fail miserably.

“There now, we’ll get you lying back down, and you can rest until that takes effect.” Gaius took the empty bottle back, as Gwen rose to her feet, ready to help Merlin back down.

He tried to lay down himself, muffling grunts of pain behind lips pressed closed.

“You don’t have to do everything alone, I know we’re strangers to you, but we do only want to help.” Gwen put her hand on Merlin’s shoulder, giving it a small squeeze, she didn’t know where he was from, but she did know that right now he needed a friend and she was going to do everything she could to help.

“I- “ He looked up at her, until his eyes flicked over to Gaius, “thanks.”

With that Gwen reached over, and with a only a little awkwardness managed to get Merlin comfortably lying on his back, blankets tucked tightly up to his neck.

“I’ll come back when you’re feeling a bit better, alright Merlin?” She gave his leg a pat through the blanket, waiting until he nodded before giving him a large smile, which she genuinely felt to the bottom of her heart. Making new friends always cheered her up, and now she had good news to bring Lancelot.

Wishing goodbye, to Gaius, Gwen headed out of the room making a promise to herself, she’d get Merlin to open up yet.


	7. Chapter 7

The dragonlords reach their destination in good time, after they allow the three children sometime to compose themselves after what had happened, and as they arrive, they follow standard procedure splitting off into prearranged groups, that they will stay with for the duration of their time there.

If one didn’t know any better everything would appear normal from afar. However, it was the almost whispered conversations held, when they thought no one was listening that gave away the stirrings on an underlying tension.

“I’ve gone through our flight path in my head, and it is clear that Emrys was shot down over Camelot’s land..”

“Are you sure?”

“Completely, it’s the only place the attack could have possibly happened.”

“Then, do you think it was knights of Camelot that did it, or someone else, like bandits?”

“Hard to say, but if it was knights of Camelot, then we may have to prepare for war.”

“That would mean the druids were right.” Another interjects, voice taking on a high pitch, as if in panic.

Silence falls between them, until.

“Do you think he’s really dead?”

“Hard to say. With all that magical talent you would think Emrys would be able to defend himself against an attack such as this, but he is so untrained in his talents, that if caught unawares then I think he’d be easy pickings.”

Silence returned after that last comment, the participants presumably thinking it over in their own heads.

“What… what if, Emrys isn’t dead. What if king Arthurhas him prisoner, and what if he’s planning to use Emrys against us?”

Judging by the answering gasps, this thought hadn’t occurred to anyone else, but now that it had been voiced it seemed the only thing any of them could think of.

“If that’s the case then we need to act fast. Strike before the tyrant king can bend Emrys to his will.”

“Do you think he can do that?”

“I know Uther’s hypocrisy knew no bounds, I expect his son is just the same, when it comes to getting his way.”

~

After his first visit to see Gaius’s patient, Arthur knew he had to return again when the boy was awake, something about him had piqued his curiosity, though if asked he wouldn’t have been able to say what.

Unfortunately as king, he did not have the freedom to be popping to and throw from the physician’s chambers whenever he left like it to check in on the boy, so instead he had to reply on information that he could glean from others. Something which again was difficult as he could not just go around straight out asking everyone and anyone how the boy was doing, no. Instead he had to cleverly maneuver and steer conversations in that direction.

Having done as such for a few days, Arthur liked to think he had gotten quite good at finding out what he wanted to know, without the other party guessing that was the information he wanted. So when he finally heard that the boy, Merlin as he had discovered he was called from Gwen, was managing to stay awake for longer than five minutes, he planned a slot into his day so he could drop by.

The slot was after lunch, neither early nore late, in theory allowing him the highest chance to catch Merlin awake. And so Arthur had collected his near empty jar of bruise salve; his excuse for the visit if anyone asked, and set off.

He rapped his knuckles on Gaius’s door sharpley once, not waiting for a response before entering, and deciding to start speaking before he even knew who was in.

“Gaius, I need some more of that salve you have for bruising.” Then when he actually entered the room fully it was to see that Gaius was not there.

Instead, sat up, looking almost as pale as the sheets he sat on, and quite frankly still exhausted was Merlin.

The boy had turned towards Arthur as he entered, but his large blue eyes held no trace of recognition. Never been to Camelot then, Arthur thought to himself.

“Is Gaius around?” He thought this best play would be to act as if he knew nothing of Merlin, otherwise depending on who he actually was he may risk scaring him before he learnt anything from him.

“Um, no he’s out seeing to someone… I forget their name.” Merlin’s voice was deeper that he expected, though it definitely a nice surprise. “Who are you?”

Clearly not shy then.

“I’m Arthur, do you know when Gaius will be back?” Before he had entered, Arthur thought he would be trying to avoid telling him his actual name, however, after the complete blank he had received on his appearance, he had the sudden craving to know whether Merlin would recognised his name at all, it seemed not again, as Merlin gave no reaction to it.

“I don’t think he intended to be gone very long, but I suppose it depends what he’s needed for.”

A diplomatic answer, smart then. Not some simple peasant.

“Well in that case, I think I’ll just wait here for this return.” Arthur headed over to the large table, putting his jar down, and sinking onto the bench besides it.

The whole time Arthur had been there, Merlin had not once taken his eyes off of Arthur, he wondered if that was paranoia, or just curiosity.

“Who are you then?” Arthur asked, even though he already knew, he wanted to see what Merlin’s answer would be.

There was a short pause before the answer came.

“I’m, um, Merlin.”

“And I guess you arm isn’t your only reason for being here.”

“My…” Merlin started to answer, then trailing off half way through finally shifted his eyes off of Arthur, and down to his bandaged wrist. “Oh, no. I got shot.” Even though Arthur had been expecting that reply, he couldn’t help the wince of sympathy, given how tiny and harmless Merlin looked right now, Arthur couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to hurt him.

Instead of letting his feelings out, Arthur instead goes for the nod of solidarity, his eyes never leaving Merlin’s face, which betrays nothing despite the aura of openness the other’s body language holds.

“Did you see the culprit?” Aside from finding out all he can about Merlin, he also needs to know what dangers are potentially lurking within the kingdom.

It takes a moment for Merlin to answer, his eyes sliding to the floor as he remembers.

“No.” He licks his lips, “they caught me unaware.” 

Arthur nods, waiting for Merlin to pull his eyes from the floor, but he doesn’t, and Arthur has to wonder what it is that Merlin is hiding. He knew Merlin wasn’t lying when he had said he didn’t seen who had attacked him, but there was clearly more to the story then he had volunteered.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, Merlin sipping on some water with shaking hands. Arthur takes the time to subtly study Merlin, taking in the small quirks that were evident now the boy was conscious.

Another question was on the tip of Arthur’s tongue, but before he could ask it, the door to the room opened, as Gaius returned.

Arthur flatted his expression, wanting to keep his curiosity to himself for now, instead standing.

“Gaius.”

“Sire. this is unexpected. What can I do for you?”

~

Having been in Camelot for a few days now, Merlin had started to grow accustomed to those who visited him regularly, striking up a fast friendship with Gwen who despite her recent status upgrade still loved to spend her time assisting others. A few of the knights, especially Lancelot who Merlin learnt had been the one to find him, as well as an unconventional knight by the name of Gwaine who seemed to always be involved in some or other shenanigans. 

The most surprising, however was repeated presence of Camelot’s king. Arthur.

Merlin found it strange how often the king stopped by, but then again, how was he to know that that wasn’t standard practice for the king? Maybe he always came around to visit patients, just because it wasn’t something that happened back in Conwy didn’t mean it couldn’t happen here.

Aside from his visitors, Merlin found himself starting to open up about a few choice aspects of himself to Gaius. 

He felt almost like he was settling into a new home here.

Merlin yawned long and slow, blinking heavily, as Gaius entered the room.

“There’s something I need to tell you my boy.”

Merlin tilted his head, eyes large and curious, under messy dark hair. He blinked as Gaius’s expression became grim, and he lowered himself into the chair next to the bed.

“I know.” The physician said simply.

Merlin’s brow furrowed, a wash of cold spilling down his spine.

“W-what do you know?” The words got almost stuck in his throat but he forced them out. He needed to try and maintain as if nothing was wrong, just on the off chance that was Gaius knew wasn’t actually what Merlin thought it was.

Gaius pressed his lips tightly together for a moment, thinking on what Merlin could only assume as the best way to break the news that Merlin would either have to leave Camelot right now, or be put to death.

Merlin could stand the wait no longer, and the moment Gaius opened his mouth he found himself squeezing his eyes shut, quite unable to face what he knew was coming.

“That you’re a dragonlord.”

Blood surged in Merlin’s ears, the world faded away for a moment. The next thing he was aware of what Gaius’s hands on his shoulders, and that he was leaning precariously over the side of the bed, threatening to fall off it.

“Alright there, my boy. I’ve got you.”

The hold was surprisingly strong for an old man, and before he knew it Merlin was being laid back onto the bed, his vision clearing, though his breathing did not calm.

The moment Gaius released him, Merlin tried to sit back up, needing- wanting to get away. He didn’t get anywhere however as the moment he sat back up the room started spinning, and instead he found his forehead being pressed against his blanket covered knees.

“Calm down. I promise to keep your secret.” Gaius’s voice was soft, but he kept his hand in place on the centre of Merlin’s back. “I once knew another dragonlord. Someone who I still consider a friend, even though I have not seen him in many years now.”

“What!” Merlin tried to jerk upright. He only made it a few inches before Gaius stopped him.

“Yes. Camelot has not always been so…” Merlin stared straight down at the blanket, not registering the patterns in the fabric, but tracing the shadows that formed in the creases. “So hostile to magical folk.” Finished, Gaius let Merlin sit back up.

Merlin’s breathing began to slow from its rapid pace, the black that had started to encroach at the edges of his vision fading away. The hand on his back serving to ground Merlin in the here and now.

“Feeling all right now?” The physician asked, one brow slightly raised in a critical manner.

Merlin could only nod, his eyes wide and still shocked. He could hardly wrap his mind around what was happening. If it wasn’t for the muted ache he still felt, Merlin would have thought he was dreaming.

“I- thank you.” He swallowed heavily, almost overcome with so many different emotions.

Gaius gave Merlin’s knee a reassuring pat, as Merlin finally dragged his thoughts into check.

“How did you know?” He had a small inkling in the back of his mind, but he needed confirmation, or to know how else he had been discovered.

“The wing marks on your back.” Merlin nodded, glad to know it was as he expected. “Of course they’re not obvious to those unfamiliar with them, so you’ll be safe even if others see them.”

Merlin exhaled a puff of air, his eyes sliding up to meet old grey ones.

“Thank you, Gaius.”


	8. Chapter 8

Merlin’s recovery was slow. At first Gaius refused to let him leave his bed, worried about the possibility of him ripping any of his stitches and opening his wounds. Time seemed to drag on and on for Merlin, with nothing to do. Eventually Gaius had to try and distract him lest they both driven to the brick, so Merlin had been plied with a pill of Gaius’s herb books to read and study.

“It will be a long time before you’ll be fit enough to leave Camelot, so in the meantime you might as well make yourself useful and learn.” Gaius had said, shaking his head at Merlin’s continued restlessness.

That was how Merlin started out as assistant to the court physician. 

Merlin was practically buzzing with nerves, as he approached the door which he knew lead to the king of Camelot’s rooms. With his healing going well Gaius had started giving Merlin tasks through to keep him busy and stop him wallowing in his thoughts.

Luckily Merlin’s mother, Hunith had had an interest in healing and the physician’s art, and had thus forced Merlin to listen as she read through various passage, as well as assist her with fine chopping, as she claimed his younger eyes were much better for the job than her own.

So of course, simple chopping and mixing of ingredients had eventually lead to this. To Merlin standing in front of a closed door, fingers wrapped around a vial as he worked up the courage to enter. 

Swallowing Merlin lifted a hand, placing his palm flat against the wood before he inhaled a deep breath and then pushed.

The door swung open silently, and Merlin found himself almost glued to the spot, how could he let himself be alone in a room with a man who would as soon as order his death if he found out what Merlin really was and what he could do.

He cleared his throat, hoping he was in the right place, until Arthur appeared from behind the his changing screen.

“Merlin?” Confusion was clear on his face. “What are you doing here?”

“Arthur, Gaius sent me… He said you needed a massage after training.” He held up his hand with the vial as if that would give Arthur all the answered he needed, he had somehow managed to keep his voice steady, and was glad when Arthur nodded.

“Of course, of course. A massage must be quite a strain on his old bones, I’m not surprised Gaius is fobbing that task off on you.” Arthur waved in a follow me gesture, and Merlin rolled his eyes at the conclusion, but followed without hesitation. There was just something about Arthur’s easy banter that had Merlin relaxing, forgetting his earlier fears.

Arthur crossed over to his bed, shedding his shirt and dropping it carelessly over his shoulder as he went.

“You servant must love you.” Merlin muttered under his breath, he thought he had been quiet enough, but it appeared not when Arthur asked.

“What was that?”

Eyes widening for just a fraction of a second Merlin hurried to make up something more plausible.

“Um, I was just wondering how you wanted to do this.” Arthur sent him an almost questioning look, clearing not entirely sure whether to believe Merlin’s answer, but almost not really bothered with pushing it.

“I lie down on my bed, that allows you to reach easily, as well as use you weight to really get into any knots.” Arthur said as if it were to most normal thing in the world, hopping onto his bed and settling himself face first on his bed.

Merlin stopped besides the bed, he couldn’t help but stare at the strong muscles of Arthur’s back, at broad shoulders, and skin that was sun kissed just the right amount to give it a golden glow.

Climbing onto the bed Merlin felt as it dipped under his weight, he felt incredible self conscious sitting on the king’s bed, with said king also in it, and shirtless to beat.

He blushed, cheeks pinking with something other that fever for the first time in weeks, as he carefully straddled Arthur’s waist. Merlin tried not to put his full weight down, he knew logically that Arthur was stronger than him and that Merlin sitting on him to give him a massage, was not going to hurt him, but he just couldn’t do it.

His legs tensed as he poured some oil on his hands, rubbing it between fingers until it was warm.

The first touch of his fingers against warm skin was tentative, something which could never be referred to as a proper massage.

Taking a deep breath and holding it, Merlin pressed down firmer, his whole body ridged. He felt his wrist twinge, not completely healed from his fall.

“You know you need to move, right Merlin?”

Arthur’s snarky comment had Merlin jerk his hands away from his skin as if it burned, before the words actually registered.

“Right, I’ll, um, do that.” He put his hands back to Arthur’s back, starting with small circles, the oil allowing his hands to almost glide. He worked his thumbs into the muscles at the base of Arthur’s neck.

He relishing how strong Arthur felt under the pads of his fingers, and slowly finding the tension in his own body draining away as he worked it from Arthur’s.

Before he even realised what had happened, Merlin realised that he had stopped keeping his weight up, and that he was actually starting to enjoy the task.

He slid his hands lower, and lower until he they reached the small of his back, feeling satisfied when Arthur let out a low groan of enjoyment.

“You’re better at this then Gaius.” Arthur said, his words so quiet he almost missed them.

“What was that?” Merlin asked, seizing the opportunity presented, a smirk spreading over his lips even though he knew Arthur could not see it.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I think you need your ears tested.” 

To which Merlin rolled his eyes, not that Arthur could see him, pressing extra hard until he had Arthur squirming under him.

“You might want to remember who’s the one giving the massage right now.” Merlin quipped back, to a sigh of annoyance.

He pressed especially hard just to emphasis his point.

“Alright, alright.” Came Arthur’s muttered reply. “Just get on with it already, I’m almost starting to enjoy this.”

So with a shake of his head, Merlin complied.

~

Staring down at the blank piece of paper, Merlin almost felt detached from what he had to do. He had found a place so easily in Camelot with everyone else, that his life before had started to slip his mind.

But he knew he had to do it, there was no way he could leave his parents hanging. In fact they probably thought him dead given his lack of contact.

The thought of those he had known thinking him dead had his stomach rolling, and Merlin had to shake his head to drive away the feeling.

He couldn’t let himself fall into a pit of guilt, it wasn’t exactly as if it had been easy to find out how to send a letter by magic in a kingdom that would quite literally see him dead for even thinking about doing so.

Now the knew what to do, he needed to think carefully about what he said, just in case the wrong person got their hands on his letter.

He needed the perfect way to tell his parents that he was safe, but that they could not come looking for him, and that they could not let anyone know where he was, for risk of those who would take the discovery the wrong way.

~

When she found the letter, resting innocently on her desk, Hunith had thought nothing of it, assuming it had been dropped off whilst as was away earlier in the day, and thus she didn’t open it straight away.

When she did however, her knees grew weak, the paper falling from his hands until the next thing she knew, she was blinking owlishly, staring at the wall in confusion.

She could hardly comprehend it, a message from her son, confirming what she had believed all along, that her son was alive, and that he was even doing well. With shaking hands she reached for the letter again, wanting - needing to see again that she hadn’t just imagined the words, but no she wasn’t they were right there, in her son’s recognisable messy looping writing.

She was still on the ground when Balinor found her, he rested across the room, worry eating at this thoughts, had she been attacked? What had happened that had caused her to collapse. He crashed to his knees besides her, gathering her into his arms, one hand stroking slowly over her cheek.

“Balinor…” She struggled to get her words out, the shock of what she had read still overwhelming her completely. “Merlin, he… the letter… Read it.”

She had thrust the paper into his hands scrunching it up in doing so, trying to impress upon him the importance of what was written there.

Seconds of silence passed between them, as Balinor read, Hunith feeling her whole body coiled tense, hoping she hadn’t misunderstood, that it was real that her son had contacted them.

She knew the moment Balinor finished, the way his eyes widened and, the rest of his body froze completely.

Finally managing to shake himself from the shock, he asked.

“Where did you get this?” Hunith licked her lips, using the action to buy her a few second more before she had to answer.

“It was in my desk, just sat there. I don’t know who left it.” Balinor nodded.

“I suspect that Merlin may have sent it directly here using his magic. If he’s really in Camelot then he would not be able to risk sending it by more mundane methods, in case someone puts two and two together.”

Instead of answering Hunith tightened her grip in Balinor’s arm. Balinor squeezed her hand, trying to give what reassurance he could before continuing. “The council is going to want to know about this.”

In no shape or form did Balinor like this idea, but he knew it had to be done. When Merlin returned, and everyone found out he and Hunith had known that their _treasured_ Emrys was not only alive, but seeking refuge in Camelot of all places, there would be hell to pay on all sides.”

Hunith shook her head, skin paying further as if that were somehow still possible. 

“If they know where Merlin is they won't wait for him to heal and return to us. They’ll charge straight in and start an all out war. You know that’s exactly what will happen.”

Balinor’s mouth pressed into a thin line, frustration written plain on his features. 

“Yes.”

“If we burn the letter and pretend Merlin was only able to communicate his safety, perhaps we can buy enough time for him.”

It was the perfect plan, but it was the only one they currently had, and somehow they would need to make it work.


	9. Chapter 9

There had been an outbreak of the flu in the lower town, which meant Gaius was needed down there to treat and care for everyone.

This meant Merlin was in charge of any of the simple physician’s tasks, which was how he found himself wandering through the castle corridors, bag tucked tightly under his arm after finishing Gaius’s delivery rounds for the day.

Merlin had decided that rather than take the direct route back, that he would go on a slight detour to allow him to see more of the kingdom that had become his- at least for now -home.

He had found his way to the open walkway that ran along the outside of the courtyard, and had been distracted watching as a group of knights rode in horse hovers clacking against the stone cobbles, while red cloaks waved gently in the wind.

He hadn’t been looking away long, when suddenly he collided with something.

Breath rushed from his lungs, as Merlin stumbled backwards, the world tilting before he landed hard on his side.

“What the- who?” Came the voice from above him, loud but also familiar. Merlin peeled eyes that he hadn’t even realised had closed in the first place open. He shifted trying to see who the voice belonged to, only to end up slamming his eyes shut once more as pain ripped through his stomach. He gasped weakly, curling his legs up.

“Merlin?” The voice from before asked, as a hand dropped onto his shoulder.

“Arthur?” Merlin finally managed to figure out who the voice belonged to.

“Does Gaius know you’re out of bed?” The words were teasing but, there was an underlayer of concern.

“Shut up you prat.” Merlin bit out. He slowly uncurled, flinching as his wounds gave a painful twinge. “I’ll have you know, Gaius actually sent me out do his rounds.”

“Well look at you all big and responsible.” Arthur even rolled his eyes as he spoke, before shifting his hand from Merlin’s shoulder where it had remained, just a small tint of pink colouring his cheeks, offering it to the dragonlord.

“Are you okay though? That was a hard fall.”

Nodding, Merlin accepted Arthur’s hand, using it to lever himself upright slowly.

“I’m fine.” He mumbles, only for his attempt to straighten up to results in almost sending him doubling over at the fresh wave of pain. Arthur tightened his hand around Merlin’s refusing to let the other man go just incase he fell again.

“Sure about that?”

“I will be, just need to get back to Gaius’s.” Merlin finally admitted, sliding his hand free of Arthur’s. He almost wished he didn’t have to let go of Arthur’s hand, having enjoyed the feeling of strong fingers entwined with his, but there was no way anyone especially Arthur would have let him get away with that.

“Well seeing as how you’re so clumsy, I had better escort you there, just to make sure nothing else happens to you on the way.”

Merlin struggled not to shake his head at Arthur’s attempt to cover up the fact that he was concerned.

“Well… It’s not like I can contradict the king’s orders now, can I?” Merlin’s face split into a cheeky grin.

~

After the day with the massage session, Merlin found himself being summoned to Arthur’s chambers more and more often. Just for little things, never anything big, and always to be followed by half-assed excuses from the king as to why it had to be Merlin.

“I needing someone with neat handwriting, I heard Gaius had you re-labeling his supplies, so clearly you have some skills in that area.” Or, “you’re tiny, so I’ll know for sure that you’re not going to steal my food, unlike some other people.” To all of which Merlin would simply roll his eyes, fire back some sort of witty come back, but then get on and do what was asked anyway.

And so it was that, Merlin found himself all but adopted as one of Arthur’s servant, the king introducing more and more tasks as time went on, though always making sure they were things that Merlin would be able to manage without disturbing his injuries. 

The formal position of manservant to the King had always been vacate, the King simply seeking the assistance of whichever servants were currently free. Never before had he had anyone attend him regularly, even if the job was still shared amongst those who just so happened to be available. 

Along with his servant duties, Merlin also began assisting Gaius with more and more of his daily tasks. Slowly starting to learn all that went into being the court physician. 

It was handy for Merlin to learn how to prepare some of the medicines Gaius had him taking, as it allowed him to prepare them himself when needed, and freed up Gaius’s time to tend to the rest of the kingdom. 

But most importantly as this required that Merlin be in the physician’s quarters so as to have access to all the needed equipment, it also meant Gaius could be there the moment Merlin showed signs of relapsing. A gentle hand guiding him back into bed, as some sleeping draft was slipped between his lips. 

These tasks served to keep Merlin busy, as his body continued to fight to heal. 

~

There is a vast tension lying over the whole of the kingdom of Conwy.

Since Merlin had been confirmed by the Druids as being the legendary Emrys, a new hope had been kindled in people's hearts and minds, and the sudden loss of the one on whom they had pinned their hopes left many people suddenly unsure. 

It was like their purposes in life had suddenly left them, and there was nothing to replace it. 

Watching people withdraw and be consumed by their fears was hard for Mordred to do. Not a day went by that he didn't regret his hand in Nimueh’s plan. But however much he wished he could do something, he had no idea what. 

He didn't want to just come out with the whole truth, fearing not only everyone’s reactions to it, but also the revenge that Nimueh would take on him. 

So he kept quiet. Bidding his time until he could lend a hand and try and right the wrong he had helped cause. 

~

Arthur realised for the first time since his father’s death, the hole in his life Uther’s death had left was suddenly not as large, or raw, his new growing feelings for Merlin, healing more than anything else in the time between.

He was at a complete loss to explain it, never having gotten that close to anyone before, and he was almost scared of what that could mean.

Pressing his hand over his mouth, Arthur turned to look out of his window, eyes landing two knights, Leon and Elyan he thought, watching as they crossed the courtyard, disappearing over inside one of the side entrances.

He needed to settle his thoughts, but it was hard, very hard, with no experience and nothing to help guide him through it.

Perhaps he should seek advice from someone more experience in matter such as these… On the surface that seemed like a good idea, until it came to the who. Who did Arthur know what have experience of love.

Not someone like Gwaine that was for sure. The long haired knight was almost the opposite of the type of person he need to talk to. Arthur pressed a hand to his mouth, leaning his weight forwards over his feet, as he thought.

Most of those whom he trusted enough to even broach a matter such as this with were single themselves, and had been for a long while.

He shook his head, golden blond hair falling in his eyes, as he fought the urge to rub his brow. There must surely be someone… That’s when it hit him. Lancelot.

Though the noble knight had only officially been courting Gwen for a short while now, he was the perfect person to consult.

Honourable, and also putting others before himself.

Yes, Lancelot it would have to be.

~

Between his duties to Arthur and his assistance to Gaius, Merlin didn’t get a lot of time to himself, but today was one such day where he had the whole afternoon free. Wanting to get away from the castle for a little while, Merlin had headed down through the lower town, out towards the rolling open fields that surrounded the castle.

Alone, Merlin had laid down in the tall grass, staring up at the sky as he lazily tracked the movements of the clouds.

That’s why he almost jumped out of his skin, when a voice suddenly called out.

“All right, mate?” Long brown hair filled his vision, blocking his view.

“Gwaine! You scared me.” One of his hands flew to his chest, resting there, over his fluttering heart. A large smirk answered him, as Merlin sat up.

“How did you manage to convince the princess to give you sometime off?”

Merlin rolled his eyes at the nickname.

“I think the better question, is how did you manage to sneak away from training?”

“I’m hurt, Merlin. What gives you the idea that I snuck away? I definitely could have got the afternoon off legitimately.” Merlin was hard pressed to restrain a snort of amusement.

“I’m sure,” a smile of his own crossed Merlin’s face, as the knight settled himself down besides him.

They fell into a companionable silence, just watching the clouds, and listening to the wind as it rustled through the trees that sat as the edge of the field.

“You didn’t answer my question.” It was with a soft voice that Gwaine broke the silence.

Blues eyes turned, taking in the genuine expression.

“I’m fine, coming along well, Gaius says.”

“That’s great. But I hope it doesn’t mean you’re going to be leaving us the moment you’re fully recovered?”

Merlin made a small sound in the back of his throat. The truth was, as much as he might want to remain, he didn’t know if he could when his very existence was illegal, so he answered honestly.

“I don’t know.”


	10. Chapter 10

That evening Merlin was back in Arthur’s chambers, sat in a chair at Arthur’s table, as they shared dinner. Arthur had confided in him that he had never been as close to anyone before Merlin, and Merlin had to say he felt the same. There was just something about Arthur that drew him in, that made him want to stay by the man’s side.

Merlin wiped his hand on the top of his trousers, his eyes flicking between the surface of the table and Arthur’s lips.

They looked soft under the warm firelight, and slightly moist from his tongue.

Merlin swallowed, steeling himself before he leant in, pressing his lips to Arthur’s. His heartbeat pounded in his ears drowning out everything else, for a moment Arthur didn’t react, his lips still on Merlin’s, until he did.

Arthur’s hand was behind his head, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. Merlin’s own hands found Arthur’s cheek and and arm, as his lips parted. Merlin’s tongue brushed against Arthur’s lips, he was encouraged when the king’s mouth also opened and the kiss deepened.

They had both stood, stepping away from the table before they even realised they had moved, mapping out each other’s mouths, their worlds narrowing down until there was only the two of them, nothing else mattered.

Arthur’s other hand landed on Merlin’s lower back, and he felt as a knee parted his legs just a touch.

Warmth coloured Merlin’s cheeks as arousal curled in his stomach, and Arthur took a step forwards, easily directing Merlin to the left, and backwards.

They only separated when the need for air grew too strong, and even then they when straight back to kissing.

The bump of Arthur’s bed against the back of his legs was the only warning Merlin got before he was pushed back onto the soft surface.

A rush of air escaped Merlin lungs, as he made contact with the soft sheets. He was given no opportunity to regain his breath, before Arthur was on the bed, his legs straddling Merlin’s.

“My turn to be on top.” Arthur said, his voice low and husky. Merlin rocked his hips up in return, his trousers suddenly much too tight.

Groaning, Arthur shuffled forwards until they were pressed together, thin fabrics the only thing separating them.

Merlin’s fingers fisted in the smooth bed sheets, as Arthur reached between them, pulling at the strings of first this own, and then Merlin’s trousers until the strings came loose.

A gasp forced it’s way from Merlin’s lips, and his back arched, at the first touch of Arthur’s hand against sensitive skin. He lost sight of the king, as Arthur’s head suddenly ducked forwards.

Taking a shaking breath, Merlin tilted his chin down so he could follow Arthur’s movements, only for a warmth to suddenly around him. He just registered the golden blond of Arthur’s hair before his eyes rolled back in his head, a wave of pleasure hitting him.

Arthur started a slow bobbing motion, drawing half stuttered cried from Merlin, as each movement pushed him closer and closer to the edge, until he finally went over as Arthur began a low humming in the back of his throat.

“Ar-thur.” The name was almost incoherent, mangled and split and between unsteady breaths. Arthur didn’t pull away however, his tongue, sliding along silky skin to the too sensitive head of Merlin’s dick, cleaning him up.

When he pulled of with a wet pop, Merlin practically flopped backwards, feeling boneless, only for Arthur’s mouth to suddenly be on his, lips damp and demanding, easily forcing Merlin’s mouth open and deepening the kiss. 

Arthur's hands were suddenly on Merlin’s stomach, sliding up the taut skin, and slowly inching his shirt up his body.

He felt it bunch behind him, trapped between his back and the bed, before Arthur gave it a sharp tug, pulling it successfully over Merlin’s head, then with Merlin’s help to free his arms, threw the item of clothing somewhere over his shoulder.

As Arthur satback his eyes roving over every angle and line of Merlin’s body, a flare of self consciousness hit Merlin, his cheeks and neck warming in the beginning of a blush.

“Gorgeous

As they were kissing, Merlin felt Arthur’s hand slip between them, past Merlin’s cock which gave an interested twitch even as it struggled to harden again so quickly, but Arthur’s hand continued lower.

Arthur let out a low moan, and Merlin suddenly clicked what he was doing; opening himself up.

Merlin practically panted, pushing himself up onto his elbows. He paused just a moment to take in Arthur as he currently was, blond hair disheveled, and eyes dark, almost black his pupils were so dilated. Pushing up further to his hands, Merlin was able to meet Arthur’s mouth for another kiss.

Steadying himself, Merlin almost thought to flip them, but before he got the chance to act, Arthur was pushing him back down.

“Oh no you don’t, Merlin.”

Arthur’s left hand wrapped around both of Merlin’s wrist, his fingers easily surround the slim appendages, but Merlin paid no mind to the trapped appendages, instead his eyes found themselves locked on Arthur’s right hand, which he could now see, watching as one finger disappeared inside of Arthur.

The fingers of Arthur’s left hand tightened around Merlin’s wrists as he let out a deep moan, before he let go, leaning over the side of the bed to grab a small glass bottle. Merlin followed the hand with his eyes, his heart fluttering in his chest as he realised what it was.

It didn’t take long with the king to open himself up, and by the time he was, Merlin’s erection had returned full force, leaving him almost writhing on the bed, so much so that Arthur had to recapture Merlin’s hands before he ended up touching himself.

“Not long to wait now.” Arthur said, his other hand already slicked up with oil.

The first touch of Arthur’s hand against Merlin’s newly interested cock, had Merlin’s mouth falling open a moan falling from him. The pleasure from Arthur’s hand however was nothing compared to the feeling as the king lowered himself slowly onto Merlin’s cock.

Arthur’s moan was long and low. Once he was fully seated he took a few minutes to just sit still adjusting, minutes that Merlin used to try and regain at least the smallest amount of control, least everything be over too quickly.

Even with a the moment's rest, they both reached completion sooner than they would have liked.

Chests heaving, covered in sweat and the splattered remains of Arthur’s climax, they lay side by side, Arthur having flopped over onto the bed, leaving Merlin free to roll onto his side and shuffle closer.

“You’re never getting rid of me now, you know that?” Merlin muttered sleepily, his eyes peaking open just a crack so he could watch Arthur in the dim morning light.

“And why would you think I’d want rid of you?” Arthur replied, one arm sliding out to rest across Merlin’s hip, where his hand curled into the dip of Merlin’s spine possessively. 

“You prat.” Merlin stuck his tongue out, only for Arthur to lean in and snag it gently between his teeth, pressing just enough to keep it there, but not to hurt.

Merlin’s eyes grew big, flicking between Arthur’s lips and his eyes, before he was released, and any comment silenced with a kiss.

~

After their night together, Merlin and Arthur fell straight back into their usual routines, the only difference this time being the moment they were alone, the divide between master and servant fell away completely.

Hands which before reached out only to fulfil a job, suddenly lingered, caressing and gentling, as they found themselves greedily devouring any time they had together in private, before they had to return to the public eye.

They decided to keep things on to down low, whilst they figured out the exact nuances of their relationship. 

In the meantime however, Arthur made sure that Merlin became the only servant to attend him, no longer calling on any others when he needed something. Though officially Arthur never went to the stewart to confirm the staff change.

No one even batted an eye at Merlin becoming a constant presence, always accompanying the king.

~

Alvarr’s hands dug painfully into Hunith’s shoulders as the brown haired druid lent in so close, she could feel each of his breaths as they teased against her skin.

“Tell me where Emrys is!” Spit flew from his lips. 

Hunith tried to pull away, but the grip only tightened, so she settled with aiming a daggered glare at him.

“I know he’s in Camelot, I know you’ve communicated with him.” Hunith felt something inside of her twist painfully. She has no idea how he found out, but she will do all she can to protect her son against this mad man of a sorcerer.

“I will not let you use my son.”

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say as suddenly Hunith found a hand on her neck, squeezing. Not enough to cut her breath off fully, but enough for the threat to register real, and present.

“Emrys is ours, he is needed to fulfil his destiny.”

She can feel each of his nails as they dig into her skin, but despite the threat she refused to back down.

“Merlin never has been, and never will be yours.”

“Don’t be foolish, Emrys has always been ours, and now that we know Emrys is being held captive in the evil kingdom of Camelot, it will be too easy to rally an army to retrieve him.”

“No…” The single word comes out as barely a breath.

Everything is suddenly a blur, and the next thing Hunith knows pains is radiating from her arm, and she’s lying on the floor. A brief flicker of fear fills her chest, but she pushes it away, and Alvarr stalks closers, footsteps barely audible over the racing of her own heart.

He raises one hand, the palm pointed towards Hunith, as gold lights up his eyes.

“Emrys has always been ours, and there is nothing you can do to stop us.”

The last thing she sees is a bright light, before she knows no more.

~

Though Merlin still officially lived with Gaius, it had been a while since the two of them had been alone together.

“I don’t think I want to leave Camelot, Gaius. I fit in here better than I ever did at home, and here, well I don’t have these massive expectations placed on my head. These things that I never asked for.” Merlin almost didn’t realise he had started pacing up and down the room. “I’m convinced they have have the wrong person. There’s no way someone like me could help united Albion, I can’t even make friend amongst those of my own kind.”

it was only Gaius taking ahold of his arm and stopping him, that made him conscious of his actions.

A few days ago Merlin had confessed everything to Gaius. His magic, his family, his so called destiny. The old physician had listened, and tried to offer his reassurance that, regardless of how Merlin himself felt, the druids were rarely wrong about these things, and that even over the short time he had known Merlin, he knew the boy was a lot more capable than he gave himself credit for. But most importantly, that whatever destiny said, the most important thing was for Merlin to make sure he felt he was doing the right thing in his heart.

“Ignore what everyone else tells you to do, only you can make your own choices. To do what’s best for yourself.”

Gaius took a gentle hold of Merlin’s chin, tilting it upwards until Merlin met his eyes.

“If you want to stay in Camelot Merlin, then stay.” Gaius kept Merlin’s chin in place until he nodded in understanding, his eyes drifting back to the floor. “However,” Merlin jerked his head back up. “However, you will need to tell Arthur who you really are.”

“Gaius...” 

“No, Merlin. I know what you are Arthur are to each other.” Merlin felt his ears redden at Gaius’s accusation, “and I know you’re scared of how he’ll react, but Arthur is not his father and he knows how to see the good in people, past what they are. He knows how to see the good in you.”

The heat that had coloured his cheeks just seconds ago fled, leaving Merlin feel cold as his heart fluttered in his chest.

His tongue clicked dryly as he opened his mouth to respond, but he stopped as he realised he couldn’t find the words to express what he wanted to say.

Shaking his head, and wrapping his arms around himself, Merlin’s eyes wandered everywhere but Gaius. Guilt for his lies warred with his fear of what would happened, almost threatening to tear him in half, but squeezing his eyes shut for a moment Merlin knew what he had to do.

“I’ll try.”

~

Balinor knew today was going to be a bad day, he just couldn’t pinpoint why he knew it, but it left him on edge the whole time just waiting for something to happen.

When a servant came charging down the corridor, eyes wide with fear and Hunith’s name on his tongue, Balinor knew that this was the cause of his bad feeling, and he could only hope that it didn’t spell the worst.

He follows the servant at a run, though any attempts to extract more information from him, ended up unsuccessful and he Balinor had to resign himself to finding out what the problem was himself.

All but crashing through the door to his rooms, he freezes as he catches sight of his wife.

She’s laid completely still on the floor. If Balinor hadn’t seen the panic of the servant that had fetched him, he could almost believe she was simply sleeping. 

He crossed the room in an instant, falling to the floor besides her. With strangely gentle hands he he pressed his fingers to her neck, almost gasping out loud in almost body shattering relief as he found the slow but steady pulse.

Shutting his eyes for a moment, Balinor turned to the servant.

“Who was responsible for this?” The servant practically quelled under Balinor’s stare, pinned on the spot.

Teeth worried at his bottom lip, before the servant opened his mouth to answer. He was clearly worried about the consequences, if the culprit found out who had turned them in.

“A- Alvarr was spotted leaving the rooms only a few minutes before Hunith was found.”

The sound of his heart filled Balinor’s ears, his hands clenched into fists. He didn’t realise his expression was so thunderous, until the whimper of fear cut through his thoughts.

Pursing his lips, and trying to pull himself back under control, Balinor nodded once, then spoke.

“Thank you. You’re dismissed.”


	11. Chapter 11

Arthur’s hand was on his cheek, the gesture surprisingly intimate. Merlin wanted nothing more than to melt into the hold, to give all of himself over to Arthur, forgetting about the other dragonlords and their so called destiny. Their eyes locked for a moment, two opposing shades of blue, each with more emotion in than Merlin was prepared to acknowledge.

His eyes had lowered, landing on Arthur’s other hand which hung close to Merlin’s own, so close he could almost feel a phantom touch. The urge to close the distance was strong, but he squashed it. As long as Arthur was kept in the dark about Merlin they couldn’t afford to get too close.

Instead of giving in to his emotions, Merlin withdrew from Arthur’s touch. Taking a step back, unable to look the other in the eyes, he twisted his own fingers together behind his back. His own heart ached with want to give in to Arthur, and he knew if he met the king’s eyes now his resolve to keep his distance would shatter.

“Arthur…”

He felt more that he saw Arthur take a step forwards, the warmth of his presence prickling against his own cooler skin. 

He both wanted to run as far away as possible and also jump into Arthur’s arms. He knew neither of those options were possible.

Instead Merlin shook his head, eyes cast down, so he didn’t see the look of dismay that crossed Arthur's face, but he did see as Arthur took a step backwards, tips of feet disappearing from his line of sight.

“I’ll wait.”

“What?”

“I will wait as long as you need.”

“Arthur, I…”

“No.” Arthur is shaking his head, now looking anywhere but at Merlin. “I understand. I’m the king, it might take us time to bridge the difference in our standing.”

“That’s not…” He wants to pour his heart out, to admit everything, but he can’t.

~

After Arthur’s promise to wait for him, Merlin almost flees from the king, needing to be anywhere except with Arthur. 

Collapsing back against the door of the physician’s chambers, Merlin was never more grateful for the fact that Gaius’s job often took him away from his chambers.

Gaius was right, the guilt of not telling Arthur who he really was, or what he really was, was eating Merlin up from the inside. That Arthur had started to confide in Merlin more about more about his thoughts on the running of the kingdom, only served to made him feel worse. Weren’t relationships built on equal trust in each other?

Before anything else happened between them, Arthur needed to know. Merlin would never be able to live with himself if he didn’t tell Arthur what he was, even if Arthur hated him when he finds out.

Threading his finger through his hair, Merlin pulled slowly, finding a bizarre amount of relief in the pain it brought him.

He resolved to himself that he will tell Arthur tomorrow. They had planned to take a short ride away from the castle, to have to sometime for just themselves.

That would be the perfect opportunity. Merlin makes a promise to himself, not to return from that trip until he had told Arthur everything, even if it ends in the worse.

He never gets the chance.

~ 

It was the warning bells that wake Merlin with a jerk of panic, whilst besides him Arthur’s eyes shot open, the king already alert and able to go tackle what the problem was. 

“Arthur?” Merlin’s voice croaked, throat dry with sleep.

“It’s the warning bells.” Arthur threw the blankets back, practically jumping to his feet, find his clothes which had been discarded haphazardly the night before on the floor. “Stay here, I’m going to find out why they’ve been sounded.”

Merlin’s eyes narrowed at the suggestion, though Arthur still knew nothing of Merlin’s magical powers, they had spent some time together on the training grounds and Arthur knew Merlin could handle a sword, and defend himself even if he held nothing on the king.

Merlin kicked his feet out from the bed sheets, getting to his feet, and scowling at Arthur as he spoke.

“No way am I letting you leave without me.” He hurried to the pile of his own clothes, struggling them on.

“Mer-” Arthur’s voice was pained, and Merlin had to cut him off before he could finish, less he actually convince Merlin to stay.

“I’m not leaving you. You should know that by now.” Merlin crossed his arms firmly over his chest, meeting Arthur’s eyes, and willing his determination to shine through.

Arthur was the first to break eye contact, reaching for his sword, shoulders dropping in resignation.

“Fine.” Arthur was clearly not happy with the conclusion reached, but right now other things took priority over arguing with Merlin.

~

It started with fires set in the lower town. They sprang randomly into being, roaring and destroying everything indiscriminately.

Knights and townsfolk alike worked together. Supporting boards that threatened to collapse, to help free those unable to escape from their homes. Or hauling around any containers they could get their hands on, using them to throw water on the fires in any attempt they could manage to douse the flames.

They were successful for the most part, due to their combined efforts, but the amount of damage that the kingdom suffered was vast, many people’s homes were left unlivable.

When Arthur and Merlin joined the people in their effort, they were down to the last few burning homes. Merlin itched to use to his magic to assist, but he clamped down hard on it, instead he grabbed a bucket, and headed off to join the others.

~

By the time the last flame was put out Arthur was covered in sweat and soot, his trousers wet through from erant throws that had caught him in crossfire. Whipping the back of his hand across his forehead, Arthur blinked away a drop of sweat from his eye.

Now everyone was safe, they need to take stock of the damages caused, and move those that no longer had a place to stay up into the castle grounds, until their houses could be repaired.

Rubbing his sleeve across his face in an almost vain attempt to clear away some of the grim, Arthur turned to the group of knights that stood nearby.

“Men. I need you to find out which of the townspeople lost their houses, and then escort them up to the citadel, where I need to do also fetch them any supplies; food, clothes, blankets they need.”

The group nodded, before they chorus, “yes Sire.” Heading off to complete their task.

Heaving out a long breath, Arthur turned to Merlin, who had just arrived. Merlin was equally as dirty as Arthur, in fact on second thoughts he looked even more mucky than everyone else, fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Arthur settled with a simple shake of his head.

“You all right there, Arthur?” Merlin asked, between deep gulps of air. After having spent so long on forced bed rest during his recovery, Merlin’s stamina was a lot lower than it would otherwise be.

Rather than answering Merlin’s question, Arthur cut in with his own, closing the distance between them, one hand hovering just incase.

“How are you feeling? I hope you didn’t reopen any of your injuries.”

Panting, Merlin offered a mock scowl at Arthur, before shaking his head, “no I didn’t open any, and I’m fine Arthur, really.” Twisting slightly, Merlin slipped his hand into Arthur’s. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Oh, worried are you?” 

“Not at all, you prat.” Merlin pulled his hand free, giving Arthur a weak shove.

“I’m perfectly fine, idiot. Don’t worry.”

“Good.”

Arthur’s expression grew serious, now that this disaster had been dealt with, he would need to call a meeting with his council and war advisors to to figure out how best to recover from this, and deal with whomever it was that been the cause of the attack.

He knew it would not be easy. The attack had clearly been orchestrated using magic, something they would struggle to combat without a cleverly thought out plan. Which would mean of course, spending an ungodly long time standing or sitting around strategising. 

Sighing audibly, so Merlin frowned at him, Arthur shook his head.

“We’d best head back to the castle. It seems we have a long night ahead of us.”

~

They had stayed up late into the previous night, planning and going through all their options to prepare the kingdom against further magic attack.

It had been early into the next morning when Merlin and Arthur had finally been allowed to fall into bed, asleep almost the moment they had hit the pillows.

Unfortunately for them, they were not yet to be granted a reprieve, and as the dawn began to break, Sir Lancelot arrived at the king’s chambers, bearing news that an arm had been spotted on the forest surround the lower town.

“It appears yesterday was only the start of something much bigger.” Arthur commented, to a hum of agreement from Lancelot.

Initially Merlin had been shy at being discovered in Arthur’s bed, but a reassuring nod and smile from Lancelot, put him mind at ease.

“See you in the council chambers, Sire, Merlin.” Lancelot said, dismissing himself.

~

The pair of them quickly found themselves dress and down in the armoury, where Merlin was showing surprising skills at assisting Arthur into his armour.

Arthur wasn’t sure exactly where Merlin had learnt it, but he was rather glad for it. If he had had to deal with an servant of the likes of George instead of having Merlin there to help him into his armour, he was sure the stress of what was to come would have had him snapping at the man. As it was, under Merlin’s gentle and careful fingers he found himself calmed, and reassured.

“I see you’re not completely useless at this.”

“Was that a compliment you just gave me?” Merlin looked up, his eyes locking with Arthur’s, as his fingers tucked the end of the vambrace strap out of the way. His fingers lingered on Arthur’s wrist, skin cool, though not as cool as the metal of his armour.

“Don’t be an idiot.” The usual emotion behind his words was missing, replaced by a fondness that he felt bloom in his chest.

“And, you don’t be reckless. It’s no good to anyone it you get yourself killed out there.” Merlin was suddenly a lot closer than he had been before, and Arthur easily locked eyes with him seeing the silent plea there, for him to come back safe.

Arthur wished he could tell Merlin that everything would be alright, that he didn’t have to worry, no one would get seriously hurt, but he knew that that would be a lie. 

A lie neither of them would believe. 

So rather than answering aloud, he closed the remainder of the distance, pressing his lips chastely against Merlin’s for just a second, before withdrawing. The moment of silence between them stretched, until Arthur finally broke it, though it was with great reluctance.

“I need to go.” Despite his words, Arthur couldn’t quite bring himself to actually leave, he had this funny feeling that something was about to happen, something big; significant. And that things would never be the same after today.

It was Merlin that finally pushed Arthur to leave, hands sliding down to Arthur’s waist, before directing him around until he was facing the door to his chambers.

“I won’t leave you alone, all right?”

Arthur’s eyebrows drew together, what did Merlin mean by that? He turned, the question on the tip of his tongue but before he could even start to ask, Merlin’s expression made him stop. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to work out what it meant, nor if he would even like the answer once he got it.

But the sudden arrival of Sir Leon, at the door, pushed all thoughts of deciphering Merlin’s cryptic answer from his mind.


	12. Chapter 12

The sound of metal clashing against metal, of people screaming, either in pain or otherwise was deafening. The scent of burning filled Arthur’s nostrils, underlaid by the metallic scent of fresh blood. His muscles cried out with every moment, urging him to stop, to rest and recover, but he pushed on. 

On the battlefield everyone was an equal, any man regardless of his birth falling the same whether they be noble or common born. 

Ducking under the wide arch of a sword thrust, Arthur lifted his own sword in a fluid movement, easily sliding the blade between the gap in the other man’s armour. There was a gurgle, blood splattering from grey lips, before a thud as the soldier fell, dead.

Arthur heaved a deep breath, blinking sweat that ran down his face away from his eyes. His muscles felt tired, heavy, but he could not rest.

To rest was to be killed. Struck down as someone seized the advantage.

They had been lucky so far, that the only attacks they had been confronted were those of mundane means, though he expected at any moment for that to change.

Arthur blocked another attack, his sword ringing from the impact. He was just about to finish his attacker off, when a cry rang out.  
“Look out!”

Bracing his sword against his enemies, Arthur turned his head to the sky, just in find so see a fireball fly past, before crashing somewhere behind him.

The screams of terror as those affected by the fireball burned, made Arthur flinch, but he refused to let himself be distracted.

After the first fireball more followed, crashing seemingly at random into the crowds, killing indiscriminately.

Dispatching the soldier he was currently engaged with, Arthur whipped his head around wildly searching for his men in the madness that surrounded him.

More screams rose up, and Arthur made a snap decision.

“Fall back!” He turned on the spot, striking out, intent on clearing his way back to the castle. They needed to regroup, to come up with some way of either keeping out of range of the sorcerer’s or to combat them directly.

A fireball landed nearby, Arthur felt the heat from it on his cheeks even as he made his way back towards the castle.

Arthur’s foot caught on something, sending him stumbling forwards, he would have fallen if not for the hand that halted his descent. 

“Who..?” The hand tightened, fisting the collar of his chainmail, and tugged him forwards before Arthur even managed to straighten back up.

“Come on, Arthur. We need to keep moving.” Now that voice he did recognise.

“Merlin!” Arthur put his own free hand over the one still holding him, squeezing to prove to himself that it was actually Merlin, and more some sort of battle field induced delusion. “What? What are you doing here?”

“I told you I wouldn’t leave you, remember. Now keep moving, we’re nearly there.”

Shocked as he was by Merlin’s sudden appearance, Arthur had failed to notice that they were now only a few footsteps away from the castle gates.

They headed into the the courtyard, leaning against each other as they dodged and ducked around the kingdoms knights.

Arthur found himself steered over, and sat down on a low wall, Merlin finally releasing his grip.

“Are you hurt anywhere, Arthur?” Worry suffused Merlin’s every word.  
“Yes, Merlin. I’m not even scratched.” Arthur batted Merlin’s fusing hands away with a shake of his head. Whilst it was true he hadn’t sustained any injuries, other than bruises, he felt a wryness that could only be bourne of fighting. 

He propped his sword up against the wall, ready to summon his knight over so they could discuss their next move, when a twister started up in the centre of the courtyard.

Cloaks were whipped up, along with dust and leaves. Everyone backed away, covering their faces.

A form grew visible within the tornado, then without warning the wind ceased, leaving a cloaked form.

Silence fell.

Even outside the castle walls where everyone was unaware of what was happening mere metre away, still fell into a hush.

There was a moment of just stillness, before the figure threw his hood back. 

“Alvarr.” The name was hissed under Merlin’s, distaste lacing every aspect of the word, and Arthur was sure he was meant to have heard. 

Arthur studied Merlin’s face for a moment, trying to somehow gleam how it was he knew the sorcerer. 

A knight charged suddenly, sword raised in preparation to strike. Footstep ate the distance up, the figure remaining still enough to be a statue, if not that the way his hair and clothes shifted slightly in the breeze. 

It was only when the knight came within striking distance, that the sorcerer acted.

Hand jerking upwards, palm facing the knight, there was a second in which nothing happened, before the attacker was sent flying backwards. 

Red cloak billowing out, he crashed hard into his fellow knights, scattering them. 

A shocked murmur rippled through the crowd, and Arthur was in his feet in a instant. He would have join those that charged next if I hadn't been for Merlin’s stopping hand on his shoulder. 

“You don't stand a chance just charging at him head on.” Arthur knew Merlin was right but he could help the low growl that escaped him. Nor the clenching of his fists as the rest of his knights were sent flying with what looked like the smallest of efforts.

It didn’t take long for Alvarr to defeat everyone of Arthur’s knights, leaving just the king and Merlin standing.

Alvarr’s eyes locked on them, and he stalked forwards a couple of steps.

“So King Arthur. We meet at last.” 

“What do you want?” Arthur said, leveling his sword forwards, but not moving from his spot.

“I would have thought that was obvious.” Alvarr flicked his hand casually, as if they were having any regular conversation, “I want your death.”

Gritting his teeth, Arthur had to force himself not to react.

“There’s no point in you even challenging me, you know you can’t possibly win.”

The sorcerer aimed an intense look in Merlin’s direction, a look Arthur didn’t understand.

“So you expect me to give up.” Arthur took a step to the side, trying to put Merlin behind him. “To just lay down and let you destroy my kingdom.”

“Oh no, you’ve got me all wrong. I expect you to fight, and I expect you to die.” As he uttered the last word, Alvarr leapt forwards, thrusting his hand out in one movement.

Whilst at the same moment, Arthur rolled to his left, though making sure to pull Merlin out of the way with him, before he used Merlin’s surprise to break free.

“Arthur, no!”

~ 

Merlin had been concentrating so much on Alvarr, that he missed the signs which would have hold him straight off what Arthur was planning to do, and as a result, he was caught completely off guard when Arthur rolled, dragging Merlin along with him by his arm, and then proceeded to break free of his hold.

Startled and unsure what his best move would be Merlin cried out, “Arthur, no!”

Of course the king ignored him zigzagging around Alvarr, somehow managing to dodge each and everyone of the spells that was aimed in his direction.

Amazed that Arthur was somehow managing to apply his standard sword fighting strategy to a magic fight, Merlin knew it was only a matter of time before the king got caught out.

Just as that thought crossed his mind, the worst happened.

Arthur dodged to the right, but Alvarr had feint, instead of going left the blade of light spell went right, straight to where Arthur was crouched.

Panicked and with no idea what else to do, Merlin did the only thing he could think of.

Sprinting forwards, he felt his magic roar through his whole body, almost burning in it’s intensity, as he transformed.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Merlin skidded to a halt between Arthur and the spell, just a split second before it rammed into his flank.

He screamed.

With gasping breaths Merlin turned, wings spreading out behind him, and huffing smoke from his mouth charged at Alvarr.

The sorcerer’s eyes grew wide in shock and fear. He had never expected for Merlin to defend a Pendragon.

Alvarr composed himself quick enough to raise a shield, which Merlin crashed against, hard.

Using his wings to balance himself, Merlin twisted back around, his eyes narrowing.

Alvarr fired another spell, it hit Merlin, colliding with his shoulder, leaving a long clean cut. Merlin roared, heat building in his chest along with his magic.

He felt it the moment his eyes glowed gold. Then as dragon fire burst from him, the answering flow of his magic felt comforting after so long out of use, as it strengthened his flames

Alvarr once more raised a shield, both of his hands lifted to hold it.

The pressure as fire met shield was incredible, and Merlin had to dig his claws into the ground to keep himself in place. The intensity of the heat grew and grew, until even to Merlin it felt it pricking at his skin.

Without the benefit of claws, Alvarr was pushed back, the sorcerer even having to lean into his spell to avoid toppling over.

Concentrating on his magic, Merlin willed it to the fore, directing it towards Alvarr, intent on breaking through the other’s shield.

It was with a deafening smash that he succeeded.

The shield dissolved, and Alvarr was consumed in the fire before he could do anything about it. He screamed, and when the fire cleared there was nothing left, but ash.

~

Arthur was frozen, eyes locked on Merlin, if it even was Merlin anymore.

His mind was in turmoil, the one person he thought he cared about more than anyone, turned out to be the same sort of monster that slew his father. His head is shaking, his hands trembling, everything seems to have been turned on it’s head, everything but one thing… Merlin. 

Merlin who he loved, Merlin who he had trusted, who he had shared every inch of himself with, but was now revealed to be nothing more than a beast. 

There was a ruckus as his knights ran over, their voices all mingling into one indecipherable mess. Without thinking he turned to where he recognised his uncle’s voice. Words tumbling from his lips without a thought to what they were. 

Merlin had stilled, shrinking in on himself which he should have realised, didn't fit with his idea of a blood thirsty killer, out to destiny Camelot, but he couldn't cut through the fog of pain that he felt. 

The next thing he knew was the sound of chains, heavy metal links being dragged over uneven cobbles, then a terrified roar cut off into almost a whimper. 

Blinking Arthur forced his eyes to refocused on the scene in front of him, Aggravaine and three other knights wrestling a long chain around Mer- the dragon’s neck.

Large blue eyes sought it, pain and fear filling them, as they silently implored Arthur not to let this happen.

Though Merlin clearly didn’t want those chains anywhere near him the most he struggled was to move and shift in place. He made no attempt to attack the Camelot men, though he could have easily pushed them aside. 

The clock as Aggravaine closed a lock on the chains was almost deafening to Arthur, but not as deafening as what followed. 

Merlin arched his back, black tipped wings spreading upwards, missing the men surrounding him by mere inches, writhing in pain, but it was his cry of pain. A mix of an agonised human scream, distorted by with the undertones of a dragon’s cry. 

The chain was yanked from the knight’s hands, Merlin reared up onto his back legs, backing up, when suddenly the chains flared a bright red, and Merlin curled in on himself. Blue eyes were half lidded, staring straight at Arthur, judging him, as Merlin’s head rested on his front paws, chest heaving so much with each breath that his wings moved with each exhale. 

Arthur sheathed his sword, clenching shaking hands, he grit his teeth and looked away, unable to stand looking at Merlin any longer.

The sound of footsteps approaching had him lol up, meeting the eyes of his uncle, he wanted to look away the instant his eyes locked with the man, the expression of satisfaction he found there making him cringe. 

He opened his mouth to say something, anything that would somehow make this situation better, but there was nothing - how could there be anything?

Aggravaine’s voice sliced through his thoughts, not a second later. 

“I’ll have our men bring _it_ down to the dungeons.”

A tickle at the back of Arthur’s thoughts had him wonder whether Merlin would fit, sure he was smaller than any other dragon Arthur had seen, but he wasn't _that_ small. He shook his head. Arthur needed to put Merlin from his mind, that was the only way he would be able to deal with what had happened.

~

“I knew it!” Gwaine’s voice cut through all the chaos around them. Arthur whipped around, eyes finding his knight with surprising ease.

“You knew!” I wasn’t a question, but rather an accusation, the anger in his voice clear for all to hear.

“I suspected Merlin was somehow linked to magic, there could be no other reason for he to keep so closed lip about his past.” Those rare moments of insightfulness from Gwaine, never ceased to amaze Arthur, and any other day he may have even expressed that admiration, but now all he could think of was the anger and pain of Merlin’s deception.

That Merlin had not actually hold Gwaine what he was, gave him only a tiny measure of relief, though it did make him realise the bulk of his anger was not in fact over the knowledge of what Merlin was, but rather his inability to trust Arthur with that knowledge. 

Shaking his head, Arthur turned away from everyone. He was about to leave, to get away from everyone when he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

“Arthur...” Lancelot’s voice was low next to his ear. “Please, sire thinking about what you’re doing. You know Merlin.”

“No, Lancelot. I don’t know him at all.”


	13. Chapter 13

It was cold, and cramped, dark, and his body felt drained in a way he had never before experienced. That was the first thing Merlin was aware of when he finally came to.

Merlin was laid on his side, chains digging in uncomfortably under this chest, the wound on his shoulder pulling painfully, unable to move for the chains that crossed over his back, flattening his wings against his body. Formerly blue eye peeled open, the grey of exhaustion and illness having replaced their normal hue. His gaze sliding from the floor up to the bars that trapped him there. 

Everything felt heavy, from his arms where they were trapped, to his eyelids as he struggled to even remain awake. 

His mind was sluggish, he couldn’t summon the will to move, or to do much of anything. 

What was the point, when everyone he knew either thought him dead, trapped, or their enemy?

The one thing he did wish he could do was stretch his wings. They itched, being strapped closed, and restrained. In fact flying seemed like the best idea, if he were free Merlin would just fly away, never returning, living the rest of his life as a dragon.

Closing his eyes he reached inside himself, looking for his magic. Even though he already knew the chains where magic binding, he wanted so much to still be able to find the familiar warmth.

He got so close to his magic, barely a fraction away from touching it, when suddenly the chains grew ice cold.

As a human the temperature would have burned, seeping into his bones and planting an almost unshakable chill there, but as a dragon, a creature who thrived in the warmth it was agony. 

He bucked and twisted, trying his very hardest to get away from the chains, but they surrounded him, and soon enough Merlin slipped into unconsciousness. 

~

The moment the chains unlocked, a tension that Arthur hadn’t noticed bled from Merlin’s body, thought there was only a few seconds to see it, as a soft blue glow surrounded him and before Arthur knew it, Merlin had returned to his human form.

Merlin’s clothes were disheveled, and ripped, dirty from laying against the ground. Without stopping to think Arthur felt to his knees next to him.

Arthur's slipped one arm under Merlin’s shoulders, cradling his body close to his chest. He couldn't drag his eyes away from the dark rings that marred Merlin’s otherwise snowy pale skin, guilt squeezed at his heart painfully. Each of Arthur’s breaths came in almost painful inhales, round the lump that seemed to have formed in his throat.

Dried blood stained Merlin’s shirt, spreading out from his shoulder wound, the colour in sharp contrast to his skin.

“Merlin?” Arthur’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it seemed to echo round the whole room. Arthur rubbed the tips of his fingers slowly on the small patch of Merlin’s skin he could reach, feeling how cool it was after countless hours spent in the dungeons. 

His eyes burnt as tears filled them, pooling along his lower lids as they threaten to fall with each blink. Arthur tightened his hold on Merlin’s form, almost willing the other to make some side of life.

He snaked one hand around Merlin's thin wrist, the bones feeling so fragile under his calloused fingers as they pressed against the skin on the inside searching for any sign of life. 

But he felt nothing at all. 

“Please, Merlin…” Arthur’s voice cracked and he had to swallow before continuing his plea. “I’m sorry. You can’t leave me here, not now.”

His only response was silence.

It was in that moment, staring down at Merlin’s closed eyes, at pale skin, cast even paler against the dark stone they were sat on, that Arthur almost wished he had magic of his own, just so he could turn back time, to stop any of this from happening.

Curling even further forwards over Merlin, until he was practically bent double Arthur finally left his tears fall, mindless of how they soaked Merlin’s clothes and skin. 

He had no idea how much time had passed, when he suddenly became aware that he was no longer alone. In the back of this mind, the thought that he should probably turn around, to hide was he was doing or even solely so he knew who was disturbing him, but he couldn’t bring himself to move away from Merlin, almost as if to do so would result in the loss of him.

Feeling someone crouch besides him, he drew Merlin even closer, into an almost hug.

“Sire…”

There was a long silence.

“Why won't he wake up?” Arthur asked. 

“Dragonlords are not supposed to remain in their dragon form for more than six hours, or they risk exhausting themselves to the point of death.” As Gaius paused, a tear broke free of Arthur’s eye lashes, sliding slowly down his cheek.

“However,” Arthur locked eyes with Gaius as the physician continued, hope blossoming in his chest. “However, Merlin’s magical powers are unlike any that have ever been seen before. In theory his magic has no limits, it’s only the limits of his body that hold him back. With that in mind, there is the possibility he will be able to recover from this, but it will entail a lot of care, attention and a long time before that can happen.”

Arthur nodded, shifting so he could look back down at Merlin, he made a promise to himself, starting right away, that he would always take care of him. Leaning forwards he pressed his forehead against Merlin’s, taking a moment to just be. 

Then, his promise in mind he moved one arm, so it was under Merlin’s knees and lifted, one of Merlin’s own arms fell from where it had rested over his chest, hanging limply and freely in the air. 

Gaius also rose at the same time, though the action took him longer. 

“I’m taking him up to my room, he’ll be most comfortable there.” Arthur said, nodding as Gaius sent him an approving look.

Arthur strode through the castle, refusing to be cowed by any of the many staring eyes that followed his every movement. Reaching his room, he had to kick it open, the guards normally stations there missing, and because he refused to let go of Merlin. 

Inside it was dark, the curtains still drawn closed from that morning, and the fire out after it had uncomfortably reminded Arthur of what Merlin was, now that feeling seemed stupid, and he resolved to fetch someone to correct that mistake. 

He lay Merlin down on top of the covers, brushing the back of his hand across Merlin’s cheek as he straightened to go and fetch some clean clothes. 

Riffling through his wardrobe, Arthur came across one of his old sleep shirts from when back when he was eighteen, it was soft and though discoloured, it was closer to Merlin’s size than any of his current outfits. Along with that shirt, he also found some brown trousers from around the same time period, then headed back over to where Merlin still lay, having not moved even an inch. 

Carding his hand through dark locks, he decided that he need something to clean Merlin with. A quick trip over to his wash basin to collect a cloth, and a small bowl of water.

Perching on the empty side of the bed, Arthur gently pulled Merlin over, so he could remove the stained clothes without hurting Merlin, in doing so he found extensive brushing all down the left side of Merlin’s torso and arm. He remembered that the injury had happened during the battle, when Merlin had first taken on his dragon form to protect everyone, and another wave of guilt threatened to crush him as realised that this was all the thanks he had given to the one who had saved them. 

Shaking his head he dipping and wringing the cloth out Arthur hesitated before actually touching the fabric to Merlin may not actually consent to being cared for by the very same person who had put him in that situation in the first place. 

He actually bit his lip in an uncharacteristic show of nerves, before going ahead with the gesture, making short slow strokes, until he had cleaned all but Merlin’s hair. 

Frowning at the veritable birds nest of hair, Arthur hopped up, hurried to his dressing table, and grabbed his comb. It felt right to him to use it on Merlin, knowing that despite all that had happened over the last few days, he still loved the man laid besides him, he just needed to show it better. 

Sitting Merlin back up, Arthur dressed him in the softest clothes he had, clothes that almost drowned Merlin’s slim frame. Arthur almost wished he could save the image to show to Merlin once he awoke, it would have made great blackmail material. 

Hours passed, with Merlin remaining almost still as death.

That evening Arthur found himself in a dilemma. Could he in good conscious, still sleep in his bed, whilst Merlin was there still out cold, not touching him, just being there in case Merlin did awaken. 

On one hand he would know the instant Merlin stirred, if he was there, on the other he had no idea how Merlin would react to his presence. After all it was Arthur himself that was the cause of his current condition, that and who knows how being forced to remain in his dragon form would have done to him. He might wake up with no idea where he was and attack, as was the nature of such animals.

He had agonised over it again and again, in the end deciding he would sleep in the bed, but stay on top of the sheets. 

~

In the days after the invasion, Arthur struggled to keep his mind on task. He tried to hide his worries for his love, but so far he had failed, and people had noticed, luckily at least most didn’t didn’t know the exact cause of their king’s distraction, if they had then things might not have gone as smoothly as they eventually did. 

As it stood, Arthur had began work on repealing the laws which banned the both the practice or magic, and being a dragonlord, on pain of death. 

It would be a hard battle, like pushing a massive rock up a steep hill, with no help, a steep hill covered in mud at that. 

Currently he was in counsel with his advisors, who were now arguing over whether not a magic user registration was a good idea. 

Quietly Arthur sided with the no group, however for now he thought it best to let them argue it out amongst themselves, who knew. Maybe they would actually reach the right decision. Maybe. 

Instead for now he let his mind wander back to Merlin, and what Gaius had told him that morning. That Merlin was finally passed the danger stage, and now they only needed to wait for for the last of his strength to return so he would wake up. 

He day dreamed through almost the entire meeting, only finally cutting in at the end to overrule those few that were still in favour of a registration, and affirm those that had decided against it. 

As everyone filtered out Arthur had stood in silence and watched, until he was alone, or at least he thought he was alone, until a cough from behind him had him snapping his head round. 

“Guinevere!” His exclamation of her name, had Gwen shuffling her feet and glancing away. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Well, it’s just…. I noticed that you’ve been rather distracted recently, and I was wondering if there’s anything on your mind I could assist you with?”

It was a simple enquiry, but it still sent a shock of cold through Arthur, if one person had noticed, how many others had done also done so. 

“I’m sorry to worry you Arthur, I doubt anyone else will have notice, but I’m just concerned about, you is there anything I can do to help?”

He felt some of his tension drain away, and he reached out a hand placing it gently on her shoulder.

“Thank you, Guinevere, you concern is lovely, but there’s nothing you can do.” 

He turned satisfied that he had placated Gwen, until she spoke again.

“It’s about Merlin, isn’t it?” Arthur froze, his eyes locking straight ahead on some unremarkable piece of the door. “Everyone knows what happened out there. And I, I saw how you and he looked at each other.”

Clearly there was no point in even trying to hide anything from Gwen. Arthur's eyes slipped closed and with a racing heart he turned back.

“Regardless of how I feel, he can’t stay.” He couldn’t help the regret that seeped into his voice.

“He saved your life, Arthur! And half of Camelot saw him do it.” The passion in her voice, almost makes him cave, but he doesn’t give, instead pressing his last excuse forwards.

“One of his kind killed my father.”

“And if a normal man had killed your father, would he hate them all?”

Arthur opened his mouth, a refute on his tongue, before he actually registered what it was Gwen had said, at which point he closed his mouth again, teeth clicking together.

“If it’s the reaction of the council that you’re worried about, then ask your knights to testify to his character. They can’t deny Merlin’s goodness against so many.”

Arthur’s eyes lock with Gwen’s as he turns the idea over in his mind. Her logic is flawless as always. 

Really Arthur doesn't know why he is protesting at all, in an ideal world Merlin never should have been seen to the dungeon’s and he and Arthur should be together right now. 

Decided, Arthur nods. 

“You’re right Guinevere. Of course you are. Thank you.”

~

There was a couple of false alerts, when Merlin rolled over, either sighing or groaning when he ended up on his injured side, that when he finally did wake, three days later, Arthur was beyond exhausted, and extremely stressed out. 

It started with Merlin sniffling into his pillow, his nose rubbing against the soft fabric, his hair fluffed up in all directions, Arthur practically flew across the room, knocking over a plate as he went. 

“Merlin?” He tried to keep his voice calm, but wasn’t sure how successful he had managed to be.

Arthur swallowed heavily as he waited for an answer from Merlin; whether it be in recrimination or not.

Dark lashes parted after a few moments, staring blankly at the pillow that occupied most of his line of site. 

Arthur's heart pounded in his ears drowning out all other noise, even the sound of his own voice as he spoke again. 

“Merlin?”

Merlin tensed where he lay, and Arthur fought to restrain himself from reaching out, from trying to offer comfort knowing full well he was the cause of said need. 

Then ever so slowly, Merlin turns his head. 

Their eyes lock almost straight away, two shades of blue, so similar and yet so different. 

A minute passes between them, then two before Merlin’s eyes slide back closed. The dragonlord takes a deep breath, eyes remaining closed before he speaks, or tried to at least, voice cracking from his extended sleep. 

“-se leave.”

Arthur’s heart almost stops as he heard the words leave, a shock of ice travelling down his spine. 

“What?”

Merlin licks his lips, and Arthur can't help but follow the movement.

“Please leave.”

Arthur searches Merlin’s face, what he’s looking for he doesn’t know exactly, but he doesn’t find it.

Resigned, Arthur nods once, then turns, crossing to the room door. It’s only as he grasps the door handle that he stops.

“For what it’s worth, I am so sorry, Merlin.” He can’t bring himself to look at Merlin’s reaction. He doesn’t look for Merlin’s reaction. He doesn’t think his heart could take it to see Merlin’s rejection in his eyes.


	14. Chapter 14

Merlin is ridged where he sits, legs still under the blankets and eyes glued on Arthur.

His mind was in chaos.

The last thing he remembered after waking up now was being in the castle dungeons, trapped, exhausted and terrified, as animal instinct bled into his rational thoughts. He had no idea how long it had been since then. 

He had tried to stay awake, tried to keep track of what was going to happen to him, but it had all been too much of a strain, and he had eventually just passed out.

Sat here now, everything was just too much, the dragon side of him wanted curl up in a nest of blankets, and growl at anyone that even thought of setting foot nearby. 

The humans side of him however, wanted to be surrounded by those he cared for, to have the reassurance that he would be safe, though at the same time he was weary. The person he loved, was the same one who had had him locked up, and dragged down into the darkness. Even if it hadn't been his idea to do so. 

Waking to find Arthur there, it was all he could do not to dive into his arms, whilst at the same time push him away. 

He curled hands that had started to almost death grip his arms, stretching his fingers in an attempt to loosen the joints. That’s when he noticed how he was dressed, in the soft fabrics of a shirt and trousers, that were just that bit too loose on his frame, therefore they could only belong to one person, _Arthur_.

Merlin closed his eyes against the sudden burning sensation he felt in them, fighting to keep his composure.

~

The moment he is outside, Arthur has to fight not to collapse against the nearest wall, be he somehow resists. Though his recent actions have showed a lack of care for it, propriety is something still expected from him, and he can't really afford to be seen so emotionally wrought without ending up the centre of castle gossip. 

Instead he shakes his head once, before making his way towards Gaius’s chambers. The physician was the only person Arthur thought he could stand to be around after Merlin had rejected him. That, and he knew Gaius would want to check on Merlin now that he had awoken. 

Needing to see how Merlin was dealing with his magic being imprisoned and being locked into his dragon form.

~

The following day Merlin woke up alone.

His first thought other than the dull bruise like ache in his limbs is that he doesn't like waking up alone, so used to always having Arthur there has he become. 

Still tired, but not enough to drift back off, Merlin simply lies there, blue eyes unfocused, staring at the wall to his left. 

He wants to forgive Arthur, really he does, but he’s scared. 

In his mind Arthur’s reaction was totally reasonable. Not only had a dragonlord killed his father, but Lord Aggravaine had planted the idea of Merlin's imprisonment in Arthur’s head. 

Exhaling a long sigh, Merlin lets his eyes drop closed again. 

He feelings like he’s run the whole way from Conwy to Camelot. His stomach gives a quiet grumble, and he wonders if anyone had thought to leave him some food.

Peeling one eye open, he tilts his head until he can see the bedside table, thankfully there is a small chunk of bread there along with a bowl of something, likely stew, Merlin guesses though he can’t see.

It’s difficult but he managed to roll over onto his front, he tries to reach out but falls just short. With a huffle he summons his magic, feeling almost giddy as it floods his body, and floats the bowl and bread over to him on the mattress.

“Much better.” He mutters before digging in.

~ 

It wasn't until the day after that, that Merlin finally sought Arthur out. He had stewed too long in his own thoughts. Metaphorically running round and round in circles as he played that day's events over and over. 

After seeing Arthur’s reaction to being hold to leave yesterday, Merlin knew Arthur would never go against Merlin’s wishes, and that he would have to be the one to make the first move if he ever wanted Arthur back. 

He tried to sit up, but he’s shaking so badly, exhaustion not yet banished, that he has to stop.

Panting and feeling faint, Merlin allows himself to fall the few inches back onto the bed, sinking into the soft mattress with a small sigh.

He scowls after a moment of just laying there, then closes his eyes and tried again determined.

He succeeds, just about, though sweat breaks out on his forehead, and he has to take a break, now he’s sat up before he thinks about standing.

~

He doesn’t have to think hard about where he will find Arthur, over the time he’s been in Camelot Merlin has learnt that whenever Arthur needs to be alone with his thoughts he heads to one place in particular.

Merlin’s whole body is trembling when he pushes open the door to the top of the east tower. The wind that immediately hits his face, goes some way to driving his tiredness away, but he still has to support himself with one hand against the castle wall as he walks.

Arthur hasn’t heard him, and is staring at the horizon.

Merlin doesn’t speak until he’s only feet away.

“Arthur?”

Arthur twitches, what for anyone else would be a full on jump of surprise, having been practiced into submission over the years.

“Merlin?” Arthur spins around, his eyes are wide, telling of how much he hadn’t been expected to see anyone else up here, much less Merlin.

Arthur notices that Merlin is supporting himself against the wall and reaches out to help, only remembering himself at the last moment, so he ends up stopping centimeters from touching Merlin.

“Should you be out here?”

Merlin smiles thinly at Arthur.

“Probably not, but I needed to see you.”

Arthur’s lips part, and he’s almost speechless.

“Merlin… I’m so sorry-” He swallows, his hands withdrawing. He shakes his head. “I know nothing can make up for what I did to you.”

“Arth-”

“No, Merlin. I’m more sorry than I can tell you. I was scared, gods- when I saw you as a dragon all I could think of what my father’s murder.”

“I know.”

“I don’t expect you to be able to forgive me.”

“I forgive you.”

“Just, please don’t leave, I-” He stops mid sentence, Merlin’s words just registering with his brain.

“You- forgive me?” Arthur says it slowly, like he’s not completely sure if he understands.

“Yes.”

With that final word, Merlin breaches the distance between them, laying a light kiss against Arthur’s cheek, his cold hands wiggling into Arthur’s much warmer ones.

“Come inside with me, please.” And Arthur does, never able to turn down a request from Merlin.


	15. Chapter 15

With Arthur and Merlin back on equal footing, Arthur soon asks for Merlin’s hand, which of course the dragonlord accepts without hesitant.

Their fast approaching handfasting set to take place soon, the topic of Merlin’s family comes up between them.

Merlin had told Arthur that he was from Conwy, and that that is where his parents still reside.

With the laws against magic folk on the way out, Arthur wants to invite them to visit as soon as possible, knowing that as much as Merlin likes it in Camelot, he must be sorely missing his family, and in turn his family is probably worried about him.

They sit together in Arthur’s room, chairs pulled flush together as they both pour over the letter they are drafting up.

Merlin’s thigh is pressed against Arthur’s and the king’s hand is resting just above his knee, a warm anchor, something to ground Merlin as he worried over what to say, and then how exactly to say it.

It wasn’t everyday you wrote home to tell your parents that you’re engaged to the son of someone responsible for murdering your friends and the rest of your kind.

“What if they’re disappointed in me?” Merlin chewed at his lower lip, fingers tightening around his quill.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Merlin.” Arthur gives his leg a small squeeze, “you faced some of your strongest fears revealing yourself to the kingdom, simple to save lives. How could anyone be anything other than proud of you?”

Merlin nods mutely, but doesn’t stop chewing at his lip.

He draws a fullstop on the parchment in front of him, then below it signs his name in his distinctive, crisp handwriting.

~

Merlin was jittery from the moment he woke up, barely able to contain his excitement that he will get to see his parents in a matter of hours.

Arthur has to resort to bribery to get Merlin to actually sit down and eat breakfast, his nerves otherwise too strong to allow him much of an appetite.

“Eat, Merlin, you’re skinny enough as it is already, and your parents wouldn’t be best pleased if they think I’m not feeding you.”

Merlin sticks his tongue out, but relents.

After they’ve both finally eaten, Arthur and Merlin get changed into nice clothes, Arthur intent on making the right impression, when considering everything else that stood against him.

Arthur and Balinor had agreed it best that he not arrive in his dragon form, but by more conventional means.

And arrive they not long after the boys took their places on the main castle stairs, a pair of horses clattering into the courtyard, nothing particularly remarkable about them. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur saw Merlin break into a massive grin, then he felt fingers entangle themselves with his.

“Thank you.” The words were barely above a whisper, but Arthur gave a small responsive squeeze, his eyes never learning Hunith and Balinor as they dismounted.

“Why don’t you go and introduce me.” Arthur freed his hand, and placing it on the small of Merlin’s back, giving him a little push.

~

Being nervous was something Arthur had little to no experience with, a consequence of having being brought up as a prince. So now as he stood in his rooms, awaiting the servant that would be along to fetch him any moment now, to bring him to his own handfasting ceremony, it was only by reminding himself that this union would officially join him and Merlin for the rest of their days that kept him from running screaming through the corridors. 

Then the moment of the that fateful knock came, so taking a deep breath, and flattened his expression as much as he could, Arthur admitted the one who would lead him to his future husband.

They travelled in silence, until Arthur spotted the doors to the great hall, open, with Sirs Leon and Gwaine stood at either side, smiles on both of their faces. 

Leon nodded his head, spinning on his heel once Arthur drew close, and falling into position to the left. 

“Ready, princess?” The grin Gwaine directed at Arthur was face splitting, and in any other circumstances the nickname would have annoyed Arthur, but today it served to ground the King, to remind him of what mattered, so instead of his usual reproach he answered. 

“As I will ever be.” His answer was clearly also a surprise to Gwaine, who, momentarily blind sided blinked, almost owlishly, his smile shrinking a touch before in the next second in returned full blast. The knight nodded once before falling into line on Arthur’s right. 

“Correct answer, princess.”

The hall was already full, and as the trio started forwards, people craned their necks, wanting to catch a glimpse of their ruler. 

The walk to the head of the room felt like it took a lot longer than it actually did, anticipation dragging each moment out. Once Arthur halted Leon and Gwaine stepped away to the sides, so they could await Merlin. 

He knew the exact moment that everyone turned to watch Meelin enter, by the murmurs of approval and shock that went up through the crowd. 

Letting his eyes drop closed for just a short moment, Arthur took a slow breath, before turning. 

It took not a moment to spot Merlin with Lancelot at his side, dressed in a deep blue that brought out the colour of his eyes, and complimented the pale tones of his skin. 

Arthur spared a quick nod of thanks to the knight, before he turned his eyes back to Merlin. 

The moment they locked eyes across the room, Arthur felt his heart soar, and he knew he could never love anyone as much as he did Merlin. 

It was destiny after all. 

The end.


End file.
